How to Get a Cat Down from a Tree
by inkstainedpinky
Summary: A Comprehensive Guide to Surviving a Relationship with Gail Peck by Dr. Holly Stewart. Gail Peck has never been perceived as a simple kind of person. Burdened with familial expectations and a rather prickly personality, she exemplifies complicated. Luckily, Dr. Holly Stewart is okay with complicated, and she just might figure this whole "dating Gail Peck" thing out.
1. Foreword

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters represented in this fiction. They are the property of the creative minds behind the television series.

**Rating:** T for now, M for later chapters

**Pairing:** Gail Peck/Holly Stewart

**Summary:** Gail Peck has never been perceived as a simple kind of person. Burdened with familial expectations and a rather prickly personality, she exemplifies complicated. Luckily, Dr. Holly Stewart is okay with complicated, and she just might figure this whole "dating Gail Peck" thing out.

_Alright, peoples. Here we are. The foreword to this admittedly ambitious venture into the Rookie Blue fandom. CJ and I are so excited to bring you this little nugget that has been dancing around in my head since the last few episodes of the fourth season. So much so that we totally abandoned a planned Once Upon a Time fic to jump into this one. So…here we go!_

_Oh, and a random logistical note...if anyone is curious about the 10-codes we used - partially because it's not clear in the actual show - we will be making references to the ones used by the Ottawa Police Service since our attempt to find a list of 10-codes for the Toronto Police Service yielded an unsatisfactory result._

* * *

**HOW TO GET A CAT DOWN FROM A TREE**

_ A Comprehensive Guide to Surviving a Relationship  
with Gail Peck – Officer of the Metropolitan Police Service, 15 Division _

By

Dr. Holly J. Stewart  
Senior Forensic Pathologist – Centre of Forensic Science, Pathology Division

* * *

FOREWORD

**Steven W. Peck**

Guns and Gangs Task Force Detective _–_ Metropolitan Police Service, 15 Division  
Brother to the Aforementioned Subject

_You know, you'd think that no one would know my sister better than me. You'd think that being her sibling and interacting with her on a daily basis, I would have some sort of insight into the inner workings of an admittedly complicated individual._

_ You'd think that._

_ You'd probably be wrong._

_ It's not that I don't know things about Gail or that I don't understand her at all. I understand her better than most. You try spending twenty-odd years with someone and not pick up things about them._

_ All I'm saying is that no one really knows Gail. She keeps things so close to the chest, builds up these impenetrable walls that it's difficult for people to really get through._

_ Even if "people" are family. _

_ Even if she does let you through, you don't get everything. You get little pieces that if you stick around long enough to gather will eventually fit together to make some semblance of a snapshot of who Gail is._

_ But it's certainly not easy, and it's like wrestling a dog away from a particularly juicy bone. You might get bit, you might get scratched, and the dog will certainly be stubborn to part with it…but that's kind of the way Gail is. She's complicated._

_ And that's just scratching the surface._

_ For a long time, I didn't think anyone would really be able to uncover all of those pieces to "get" Gail._

_ Until Holly._

_ Now that I think about it, a lot of things I've seen Gail do and say recently have that condition. _

_ "Until Holly"…_

_ The first time I met her, I noticed things were different. I saw my sister initiate an embrace, I saw a tenderness that I don't think I've ever seen before._

_ I think that was the first time I really got that Holly and Gail were not going to be like a lot of the past relationships my sister had previously been in. Not like Diaz, not like Collins. In fact, I actually like Holly._

_ But, I admit that I wish Holly luck._

_ Because I know just as well as anyone…_

_ Dealing with Gail Peck is not easy._

_ I can't possibly imagine the task of dating her…_

Holly remembered the first time she had come into contact with Steve Peck, the first time she exchanged words with him rather than seeing him from afar. It was difficult not to work around the Metropolitan Police Service and not recognize the surname of Peck, and she had crossed paths with the elder Peck but had never really spoken to him.

She could see the family resemblance: the porcelain skin, the icy blue eyes, and the carefully-wielded blade of cutting sarcasm and witty repartee. But that was where the resemblance ended. Gail and Steve were as different as night and day. Steve had a light, whimsical side to him that seemed to contrast strongly against Gail's rough, caustic edges.

He had smiled that first face-to-face meeting, offering out a casual "Hey, how's it going?" on the heels of a rushed, teary introduction that carried the weight of the day's events behind it. She had felt bolstered by that easy acceptance, even despite Gail's panic that his loose lips would allow their fragile venture to come crashing down.

But as they settled into a relationship, Holly had an inkling that this venture with Gail Peck wouldn't be like anything she had experienced before. Steve had warned about that very same thing, and it wasn't until later that Steve had wished her luck after a particular befuddling argument with Gail that she understood immediately what he meant.

Gail Peck was complicated. She had layers.

And it seemed only Holly knew how to peel them back.

No one said it was going to be easy though…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Early in their relationship – prior to even their friendship, now that Holly thought about it – Gail had equated herself to a cat. "I'm very good at climbing trees," she had claimed. "And then the minute I get up there, I don't – I have no idea what to do. I want to get down, but I don't know how to do that…"

The analogy threw Holly for a moment. It had come, seemingly out of nowhere, on the tails of Gail's assertion she could live in the quiet and stillness of the morgue. It was slightly morbid. She was contemplating the psychology behind Gail's words when the blonde police officer spoke again.

She created an emergency situation to get out of it, Gail had said. Holly's confusion was evident as she inquired if Gail was referring to the tree. In the end, it had all turned out to be a metaphor. Out of relationships, she clarified. Even more, she took Holly's proclamation of her sexual orientation in stride, throwing out a blithe retort as she strode casually out of the lab.

Holly had no idea then, but Gail's cat analogy was actually hauntingly accurate. Like a cat, Gail could be temperamental, caustic, standoffish, demanding, and prone to hissing and/or unsheathing claws. However, Gail was also warm, affectionate, witty, and giving, but only a choice group of people was privy to that side of her. Still, it was that combination of things that made Gail Peck an enigma of the best quality.

It was also that combination of things that made Gail very, very difficult to handle.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Holly heard Gail's approach before she saw her. The steady clomp of Gail's uniform combat boots echoed in the relative quiet of the morgue, and Holly didn't have to wait long until that head of platinum blonde hair poked through her doorway.

One dark eyebrow arched upward as Holly noticed the veritable thundercloud hovering over the pale locks, solidified by the stormy expression adorning Gail's features. She didn't speak as Gail stomped over to the free chair by her desk, slumping into the seat.

"Hi…"

A grunt was her only answer. Gail burrowed even further into the chair, most of her torso swallowed by her uniform jacket. She sat there in silence, ice blue eyes staring out into the abyss but not focusing on anything. Holly let her stew, turning her attention, instead to the DNA sample she was logging.

"I'm starting to despair for our future."

The seemingly random comment prompted a chuckle from her audience, and Holly shook her head. She didn't respond right away, her eyes fixated on her work. She let Gail vent, knowing the officer would eventually get to her point.

"I mean, I admit, I did some pretty moronic things as a rookie; we all did. But, man, I swear none of us were as stupid as this new batch. Dov and Diaz toed the line – Dov had an accidental discharge at the loading station right before going on parade our second shift, and Diaz…Well, Diaz is often just in the wrong place at the wrong time – but I promise you, we didn't do anything as stupid as this group right now."

By this point, Holly surmised Gail's annoyance stemmed from the newest crop of rookies that had invaded 15 Division. And, in Gail's defense, she had a point. In the field, Holly had experienced the torrent of nervous energy and insatiable curiosity that accompanied a rookie police officer's first encounter with a dead body. Nothing would ever compare one for such a jolt to the system, and the rookies often handled that shock in different ways. She opened her mouth, about to ask Gail what happened when the blonde officer beat her to the punch.

Gail snorted. "I mean, seriously," she grunted. "Trampled all over the crime scene like he was Godzilla. I thought your colleague was going to have a seizure when he yakked after seeing the body."

Holly snorted. "That's definitely not the first time that's happened. Is it some, like, obligatory rookie thing to hone in on the dead body like a beacon, forget what's in the way, and/or yak upon seeing said body?"

Gail didn't answer, only smacked her palms on the armrest of the chair, one finger extending upward in indignation as she shot up straight.

"Oh, and today is totally your fault!"

The violent swings of Gail's moods were often so sudden and so random that Holly sometimes wasn't able to keep up. Her eyebrows drew together as she replayed the last few seconds of their conversation, not really comprehending how the vaguely reference to 'today' was remotely her fault.

"Uh…wait? Huh?"

"Because of you, I'm suddenly spouting out words like 'medical jurisprudence'!" Gail caught the twitch at the corner of Holly's mouth, leveling a glare at the other woman. "It's not funny! Diaz and Dov wouldn't stop giving me shit about it!"

Holly lost her battle with her mirth, barking out a laugh. "Gail, I could be influencing you in worse ways than making sure any and all evidence concerning a crime is preserved during collection, you know."

"Not if I'm not only using the word correctly but I'm able to define it!" Gail countered, arms crossing petulantly over her chest. "I shouldn't have opened my big mouth and yelled at the rookie. Then I wouldn't have gotten into this mess…"

"Wait…" Holly's head bobbed up, and her eyebrows drew together in confusion. She pieced together the smattering of details revealed to her. "So, the rookie nearly tramples the scene, you go all MeanGail at him, spout off some of my impeccable nerd speak, and Chris and Dov make fun of you for it?"

Gail shrugged. "Basically."

One eyebrow inched upward. "And all of this has your wrath directed at me because…?"

Gail's arctic eyes narrowed as she glowered at the pathologist. "I. Spoke. Nerd," she growled. "I don't speak Nerd. I speak Awesome, sometimes with elements of Badass. And you lost me major awesome points, not to mention all badass points. Now, the only time I will have Dov willingly regaling my awesomeness is if I thoroughly humiliate him in Death Domain again, and he won't play with me anymore."

Holly absorbed that for a moment. "So are you mad at Chris or Dov? Or the rookies?" She considered a fourth alternative. "Or is it a combination of the three?"

"I'm contemplating the sanity of the universe and how general propriety has rapidly diminished in the face of our relationship," Gail waved a hand, fingers snapping impatiently. "C'mon, Dr. Stewart, keep up!"

Holly shot out a bemused grin, shaking her head at her girlfriend. "…I'm not following."

Gail hefted a long sigh. "Holly, sometimes I wonder if _I_ even am…"

Holly put her pen down, standing and crossing over to where Gail had slumped back in her chair. She snaked her arms around Gail's shoulders. "So, what? You're mad at me?"

Gail snorted. "You are the inadvertent source of my current misery."

"So you're inadvertently mad at me," Holly deduced. She leaned down, pressing her lips to Gail's cheek. "What if I'm purposely sorry?"

"Whatever, Lunchbox," Gail huffed.

Holly didn't miss the smile that curled the corners of her mouth though.

xxx-xxx-xxx

At times, Holly wasn't sure what made Gail tick. The woman was a mass of complexities and contradictions that, had all of her psych profiles been put on paper, Holly wouldn't have believed it had all come from one woman. Ultimately, that was probably what made Gail so intriguing.

Currently, it made Gail so very irritating.

Holly thought back to the previous morning, to the exchange that had Gail storming out of the morgue after an argument that had bordered in workplace propriety. She replayed the conversation in her mind, analyzing every gesture, every word, even every inflection of her voice that she could muster up into her recollection, wondering exactly what had set her girlfriend off. In the end, she pushed their argument to the side, focusing on work. Holly figured such an exchange would happen every so often. She and Gail were two strong personalities with clashing methods about asserting their dominance; they were bound to butt heads every so often.

Relaxing at home, Holly reclined on her couch, her laptop balanced on her thighs, a glass of wine just within reach. Her fingers stroked the keys, eyes tracking the words as they appeared on the screen. She nudged her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, attempting to focus her concentration on the case report she was contributing to _The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology_. The sentences flowed easily, effortlessly despite the complex subject, but she wasn't paying her report much mind. Instead her mind, as it was so often recently, was on Gail.

For as much as she could be so mesmerizing to Holly, so effortlessly engaging, Gail could be infuriating. Holly knew Gail had the type of personality that couldn't be characterized with mere words, and one of those words certainly would never be easy-going. From their very first meeting, Holly was well aware of the sharp tongue that hid behind the bow shaped mouth and the piercing stare that pierced the distance from a pair of beautiful blue eyes to their target. Holly could see how Gail Peck could be intimidating to anyone who could muster up the courage to approach her, only to run into the mile-high brick wall that guarded her from the world. But perhaps that's why she was so attracted to Gail; perhaps that…something about Gail Peck that was so invariably appealing in Holly's eyes made her all the more irresistible. There was absolutely nothing simple about the blonde, and that was undeniably attractive.

Still, knowing that there was nothing simple about Gail also meant enduring the multiple and complicated facets of Gail's personality, and it was certainly a fact that Gail just had a way of saying the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment. For someone who claimed to be so indifferent to people, Gail unquestionably knew how to viscerally cut a person to pieces with nothing but words and expressions. The confrontation they had this morning – a silly one, really – was evidence of that. They didn't fight often but when they did, it was with the explosive, kinetic energy of a bomb.

Holly leaned back, taking a sip from her wine. As stubborn as she was towards her own innocence in their argument, there was no way she was going to make the first move. The ball was in Gail's court, and Holly was determined to make it very difficult on the police officer.

"Lunchbox…"

Yanked from her musings, Holly jumped, nearly upending her laptop. Her head snapped towards the call to find Gail reclining against the doorway. For someone so inept at anything related to sports, Gail had a sort of catlike grace, and Holly hadn't heard her enter. Seeing Gail's long, lean frame slink forward was absolutely mesmerizing.

Holly's eyes widened behind her glasses as Gail stalked over to her. She circled the couch slowly before coming to a stop in front of Holly. A pale hand extended out, pushing the lid of her laptop closed. The other hand extracted the wine glass from Holly's increasingly slackened grasp, placing it safely out of reach.

"Hi."

Gail didn't answer, merely smirked. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the back of the couch, her nose grazing Holly's. It was the most erotic nose graze she had ever experienced, and it sent a shockwave of electricity directly down to her center.

Holly drew in a sharp breath at the sensation. Whatever oxygen she had was stolen away as Gail kissed her.

Holly's arms flailed in surprise grasping the edges of her laptop and shoving it to the side before it ended up crashing to the floor. As Gail broke away, Holly shook her head.

"I thought you were mad."

Gail shrugged blithely. She propped a knee on the couch, swinging a leg over Holly's lap. She settled against the pathologist, draping her arms around Holly's neck. "Maybe I got over it."

She leaned in again, lips finding Holly's instantly. A sly, conniving tongue breached Holly's stalwart defenses, reducing the pathologist to a human subjugated to her baser instincts. Holly whimpered softly, hands finding purchase on Gail's hips, unconsciously pulling the blonde closer. She could feel the smirk on plump lips, curved in triumph, but Holly's pride didn't seem to mind. She gasped as Gail's mouth began to wander, littering little nibbles on Holly's jaw and making its way towards the weak spot on the pathologist's neck just above the slope of her shoulder. The gasp turned into moan as Gail began to move, her hips writhing in a subtle dance of seduction.

Through her lust-filled haze, a thought struck Holly, and she pulled back, looking up into ice blue eyes. "Wait, wait. This is a distraction." Holly kept Gail at bay with outstretched arms, ignoring the chuckle that emanated from the woman in her lap. "You haven't forgotten about being mad."

"Nope," Gail popped the 'p' with a smirk.

Holly's gaze narrowed. "This isn't like you to not hold onto something," she remarked. "Sorry if I'm inherently suspicious."

Gail shrugged blithely. "It will probably be revisited some time in the future."

An ebony eyebrow inched its way skyward. "So…you're just gonna keep this in your back pocket?"

Again, pale shoulders rose and fell. "I reserve the right to add this to any incident where I'm already mad at you."

Holly absorbed that for a second, ignoring the way Gail was subtly moving in her lap. On one hand, she was relieved their little squabble wasn't at the forefront of their interaction at the moment. On the other hand, she wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea that Gail was cataloguing their squabble for future use. Still, with the way Gail was clearly after something a bit more mutually satisfying than a fight for both parties concerned, Holly conceded that some arguments just weren't meant to be pursued. Holly sighed, shaking her head. "It must be complicated being you."

The smirk on Gail's face widened. "You have no idea."

"How do you function?"

The smirk shifted to a grin. "Very carefully." Gail shifted again on Holly's lap. "Now," she drawled. "Are we gonna have sex or am I gonna have to take care of this myself?"

Holly laughed, one hand skimming up Gail's torso to curve around her breast, the other cradling the blonde officer's upper back. "Yes," she answered.

"To?"

Holly leaned into Gail, finding her own sweet spot on the porcelain skin of the blonde's collarbone. "Does it matter?"

"No, can't say that it does…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was interesting dating someone in a similar line of work, Holly mused once she and Gail had settled into their relationship. Out of the office, they were Gail and Holly, goofy and bantering. On the field, however, it was inevitable their paths would cross, and in those times, it was Officer Peck and Dr. Stewart. They labored to avoid bringing work home, and for the most part, Holly found they were successful. Other times…well, sometimes it was just unavoidable.

It was one of the rare days where she caught a body in the middle of Gail's patrol, and Holly spared a smile to her girlfriend before crouching beside the body. Gail hovered over her as Holly worked, performing a precursory analysis of their victim before she sent the body back to the morgue for the full autopsy. The other forensic scientists were spread to the other areas outside of the building, leaving Holly with their victim. Chloe, Chris, Andy, and two rookies fresh out of the academy had cleared the other rooms and assisted the homicide detectives outside.

"No diatoms this time?" Gail joked, her hands settled casually on her gun belt, her right hand curved comfortably over her sidearm.

"Nope," Holly affirmed with her small half-smirk, recalling their first meeting. "Just good, old fashioned blood and guts."

Gail rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Oh yeah," she drawled. "Nothing like getting your brains splattered everywhere."

"Well, like I told Detective Swarek, it looks like we're dealing with blunt force trauma. Although…" Holly trailed off. Her eyebrows furrowed together as a practiced gaze swept over their victim. She hummed her discontent, shaking her head absently.

Gail winced, taking in the scene and the mangled features of what was once a beautiful young woman. "Looks a little excessive, don't you think?"

"Yes, actually," Holly murmured, her eyes narrowing from behind her glasses. "This is very excessive."

"At least you're not sniffing the body," Gail commented. "Traci told me how you–"

Holly glanced up as Gail halted mid-sentence. She watched as the blonde's head snapped up, crystal eyes darting from side to side. Gail's body tensed, her features tightening. Her movements slowed, becoming deliberate, and Holly could feel the apprehension emanate from Gail's posture. Gail widened her stance slightly, gaze scanning their surroundings. The hand that had been casually curved over the Glock at her side shifted, inching over to the grip of her pistol. There was a slight click as Gail moved her thumb over the protective casing covering the slide of her gun, pivoting the protective hood downward, her thumb falling naturally onto the release lever of her holster, ready to draw her weapon if needed.

"Gail…?"

The blonde held out a hand, quieting Holly non-verbally. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Eyes still scanning their surroundings, Gail reached for her radio, murmuring quietly into the microphone to Chris outside. "1504, 1544. What's your 20?"

The speaker crackled as Chris responded. "Just outside."

"10-78 on scene with Dr. Stewart."

"NO! DON'T!"

At the unfamiliar voice, Gail whirled, her pistol out and aimed at the source. She moved automatically, placing herself between Holly and the man who had come out of the shadows. His eyes were wide, panicked, and they were fixated on the body.

"POLICE! Don't move and hands where I can see them!"

He was disheveled, his hair unkempt and his chin and cheeks dusted with uneven stubble. Gail's eyes shifted over his shoulder to the room he had emerged from before snapping a quick gaze back to Holly. The forensic pathologist stood, keeping herself behind Gail. The man continued to move forward, his eyes alternating between the victim and Holly, muttering angrily.

"She made me do it," he raged. "Nag, nag, nag, that's all she did. I just couldn't stand it!"

"Hands up, don't move," Gail repeated.

Again, he failed to heed her command seemed erratic waving a bloody pipe he had clenched in his fist. Gail watched the movement, keeping her eyes on the pipe, attempting to talk to him one more time.

"Police! Drop the pipe and put your hands in the air!"

His mutterings grew louder and intensified as he moved erratically this way and that. He clearly was not hearing her, and a closer look at his face became clear that his glazed eyes and halting speech meant it was possible he was a man off his medication.

Gail softened her tone, trying a different approach. "Sir, please." Her attempts to calm him down went ignored, and she kept her weapon at the ready. "What's your name?"

He continued to pace and mutter, seemingly unhearing. His eyes flashed, gaining clarity for a moment, registering what was in front of him. Gail tensed as his eyes flicked from the body to Holly, and finally to her. With an animalistic roar, he charged, pipe lofted at the ready.

Holly felt time slow, the sound around them retracting to a din of white noise as Gail shouted out one more warning, pistol held steadily aimed at the man's chest. She could see the grim set of Gail's mouth as the officer made her decision, eyebrows drawing tightly together on her forehead. One shot then two roared into the quiet, knifing towards their target. Both bullets impacted, stopping the man in his tracks, sending him sagging to the ground. Then, like someone abruptly cranked the volume all the way up, time reverted to normal, sound rushing back into the warehouse as Chris charged through the door, Oliver, Andy, and Chloe right behind him. Chris grabbed the downed man, still howling and kicking despite the two bullets buried in his chest and shoulder, cuffing his hands behind his back. Holly's eyes turned back to Gail as she lowered the gun. Smoke still wafted from the barrel, and Gail's shouders slumped in resignation.

Her view of her girlfriend was obscured as Detective Swarek stepped in front of her, his kind eyes imploring as he asked if she was okay. Holly could only manage a weak nod as she allowed him to lead her away. She chanced one more glance back to Gail. The blonde looked lost, her features flickering through a variety of emotions as though Gail wasn't sure which one to settle on. With a resigned sigh, Holly returned her attention back to Detective Swarek.

Back at the scene, Gail kept her eyes on Holly as she was pulled away by Sam to take her statement. The pathologist looked shaken but physically, she was unharmed. Gail took a deep breath, closing her eyes as her hands rubbed over her face. So many things battered at her psyche; she wasn't sure what she should be feeling. Guilt? Fear? Sadness?

Anger.

She knew anger; that was familiar.

Anger it was. Gail whirled away, rounding in on Oliver as he directed officers to secure their new crime scene. "What the hell happened, Oliver?"

Oliver spread his arms in a placating gesture, trying to calm the raging beast that was Gail Peck. "Easy, Peck. Take a breath."

"Easy, Oliver?!" Gail raged. She gestured wildly, her arms waving in a futile attempt to convey the true "Holly…she…she…she could've…I didn't…"

"Hey, hey, hey, darlin'," Oliver grabbed her, pulling her into a strong embrace. "Nothing happened. You stopped that. Holly's okay because of you."

"How could he have snuck in?" Gail continued. "He came in from one of the back rooms! How is that possible?"

Oliver tensed, his eyes shifting away from hers for the scantest of moments.

"Oliver." Gail's voice brokered no argument that she expected a response.

"It was a rookie," he admitted. "We left the back rooms to the rookies. They were small and we figured they could handle it."

"Which rookie?"

Oliver's features flashed with indecision. He glanced over to where Sam was still talking with Holly, and his jaw clenched as the implications of what might have occurred hit him. He hitched his head to a pair lingering to the side of the building. "The one on the right."

Gail stalked away from Oliver, heedless to his calls. She was like a heat-seeking missile, and she was zeroed in on her target. The rookie was leaning up against the side of the building, chatting with another one of his rookie friends as though he didn't have a care in the world. The moron didn't have a chance as he was faced with an irate, aggressive, utterly incensed Gail Peck.

"Clear. The. Area," Gail bit out, placing herself right in front of the two men and halting their conversation. Her gaze narrowed in on the rookie responsible. "How hard is that to do?" She thrust a finger out, whipping her arm back at the warehouse. "Check every single inch of one singular room and make sure that no one is there."

"C'mon, Officer Peck," the other rookie managed to muster up enough courage to try and calm the rampant beast. "I know we're rookies, but we know how to clear a room…"

"I'm not talking to you, Buzz Cut," she snarled, turning the full force of her glare on the other rookie. Whatever courage he had accumulated diminished quite spectacularly as he shrank back slightly. "You can either disappear from my sight or get it just as bad as he is. Choose wisely because I'm not discriminating at this point."

Needless to say, the rookie relegated to "Buzz Cut" chose wisely, shooting a sympathetic look to his fellow officer as he quite hastily found somewhere else to be. Gail returned her attention to her unwitting prey, taking pleasure in the way he visibly paled, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Physically, he was easily over six foot tall, with a good fifty pounds on Gail. In any other scenario, he would have probably handed Gail her ass quite handily. But in that moment, with the fear and the adrenaline fueling all semblance of sense and rationale, Gail would not be denied.

"B-but…I did cl–"

"No," Gail roared, cutting him off before he could get the rest of his ill-advised response out of his mouth. "You didn't. Whatever you thought you did, you clearly didn't because if that was the case, I wouldn't have had to face down the raging psycho who very well could have killed Dr. Stewart!"

The rookie blanched, his eyes snapping to the scene where Sam was taking Holly's statement, the detective protecting her from view as they led away the handcuffed, still struggling 'raging psycho'.

"Look, I…I mean…"

"No buts, no nothing," Gail snarled, advancing slowly until she was practically nose-to-nose with his quivering face. Her voice tightened, the words expelled slowly, deliberately, and he had no choice but to absorb each word, each syllable, each letter of the warning leveled on him. "If anything would have happened to her, there would be no place you could hide, there would be no hole deep enough for you to crawl your pathetic, sad sack ass in."

"Peck, c'mon." Oliver placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling gently and trying to place some space between her and the rookie who looked like he wanted to melt back into the brick wall Gail had him backed up against. "Back away from the rookie."

Gail shrugged him off, her eyes seeing nothing but the inept man before her. "You had one job. One simple job, and if you can't do that, there's a hell of a lot more that you obviously can't do. If that piece of shit laid a fingernail on that woman, I swear on everything that's holy I would have used every once of the name that I have long loathed and resented to make sure writing a parking ticket would seem like a European vacation compared to the shit storm I would rain down on you."

The rookie opened his mouth again. "I d-don't…"

"I don't need to hear anything else beyond a 'Yes, Officer Peck' because so help me…"

His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. Only squeaks.

Gail growled, her hand shooting out to the rookie in the shoulder. "You get me, rookie?"

Oliver stepped in, physically getting himself between Gail and the rookie before she took a swing at the kid. "Hey!" He pushed her away, backing her up before something happened. "Alright, Peck! Cool off!"

Gail shrugged off Oliver's hold, her ice blue eyes leveled on the rookie, unwavering in its intensity. Yanking her arm from Oliver's grip, she stalked over to Holly, nodding to Sam as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Knowing that she was done for the day, relinquishing her service weapon for investigation, Gail let a meaningful look pass between her and Holly before following Andy back to their squad car to head back to 15 for the massive amounts of paperwork that awaited her, not to mention the subsequent investigation looming from SIU.

Later in the evening as Holly waited for Gail at her condo – her own process with SIU thankfully shorter and less stressful – she prepped herself for the storm she was certain would be coming through the door. Standing at the sink, she ran a rag over the dish in her hand, the methodical process infinitely soothing, allowing her thoughts to flit through her head. It wasn't the first time Gail's occupation had scared the ever-loving shit out of her; that time was during Kevin Ford's rampage of 15. However, this was the first time Holly came face-to-face with the cool, unflappable Officer Peck.

Despite the terror she felt at the time, Holly couldn't help but marvel at Gail in retrospect. From the body language to the steadiness of her voice, Gail didn't show an ounce of fear, and while Holly had been practically delusional with fear, there was a part of her that felt completely secure in Gail's skills. Still, the incident brought about a reality that loomed clear and cutting: Gail inevitably put herself in danger the moment she strapped on a vest and set foot out on the streets of Toronto.

It was chilling.

Yet, Holly knew.

It was just...Gail.

The blue blood in her ran deep.

Holly was pulled away from her musings when sure enough, her prior prediction proved true. Just as the sun had long settled into the horizon, Gail stalked through the front door. She was clad in a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, her duty gear and uniform taken as evidence. Gail headed straight to the cabinet above the pantry and rummaged through the back until she unearthed a bottle of whisky. Turning her attention to the cabinets beiside the fridge, she snatched up a glass and headed upstairs without a word to Holly.

Holly watched her go, giving Gail her space. The pathologist pulled out her phone, responding to the influx of texts from the Gail's friends from 15 and assuring the other officers of her wellbeing. She smiled as she was also assured nothing would happen to Gail concerning the internal investigation of the incident by the SIU. Chuckling slightly a slightly morbid but amusing text from Oliver and answering appropriately, she went to find her girlfriend.

Holly turned the corner to the bathroom, hearing MS MR blasting from the inside. She sighed, resting her head on the door, unsure of what she would find upon opening it.

"Gail…?"

Carefully twisting the knob and opening the door, Holly found the blonde officer huddled on the floor, cradling a bottle of Jim Beam and staring blankly into the amber depths.

"Hmmmm," Holly hummed to herself. "At least this time your hair won't be the casualty."

Gail grunted, eyes not leaving the swirling liquid. "You hid the scissors."

"Yeah," Holly admitted, dropping down beside her girlfriend. "The pixie cut is cute, but I don't think I can handle you bald."

Gail nodded absently, twirling the bottle between her palms. "You know, when I did that, it was to take off all of the bad inches. If something would have happened to you…" She mimicked the sound of a razor, running her hand over her hair. She frowned balefully, scratching the back of her neck. "I don't think it would have been enough though…"

"Hey, it's okay. Everything is okay." Holly cupped Gail's face. "Look at me."

Gail brought reluctant eyes up to meet a gaze of warm dark chocolate from behind square spectacles. Holly could see the fear dancing in the ice blue spheres, and Gail's eyelids blinked rapidly as though to reassure the blonde of the reality of the vision before her. Holly's thumbs stroked against Gail's cheeks, hoping the tangible touch would play a part in soothing the furious brute of turmoil and discord that swirled within the conflicted cop.

"You protected me, Gail. You did your job."

Pale eyelids fluttered closed as Gail whimpered slightly, ducking her head as the tears threatened to spill over. Blonde strands wavered, her head swinging from side to side rapidly. Holly glanced down to find anxious hands curled into tight, white-knuckled fists in Gail's lap. Holly ran a hand through the soft blonde strands, knowing Gail's mind kept replaying the afternoon, imagining the multitude of scenarios that could have occurred, scenarios that didn't have the desired ending.

"I'm safe, Gail," Holly assured her. "You kept me safe just like I knew you would." Holly leaned forward, her forehead resting against Gail's. "I was never afraid for myself," she murmured softly. "I was afraid for you."

Gail let out a ragged breath, clutching onto Holly's forearms, anchoring herself to the pathologist. Holly could see the doubt flitting across Gail's features, the blonde's mouth pursed tight. The doubt battled with the fear Holly felt in the tenseness of Gail's posture for dominance. Both emotions seemed to be submerging Gail in their depths. Holly could feel Gail's grip tighten, her hands scrabbling for purchase. Gail's eyebrows pinched tightly over the bridge of her nose, the terror of what could have happened prevalent in the subtleties in Gail's movements. Holly reached down, taking Gail's hand and placing it over her heart.

"Feel this. Feel me. I'm still here. I'm still alive."

Gail inhaled sharply, her shoulders releasing the tension that had wracked through her entire body. She took several deep breaths, relaxing with Holly's steady comfort and touch. Finally, she spoke, and Holly was relieved to hear the snarky inflection so customary in Gail's speech.

"Yeah, all I'm feeling is your boob."

Holly laughed, curling her free hand around Gail's neck and allowing the blonde to fall into her embrace. She tightened her grip as Gail's shoulders started to heave with the force of her sobs. With Holly's arms securely encircling her, Gail finally allowed the turmoil, fear, and the disquiet of the day subside.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Gail sighed, burrowing into the comfort of Holly's arms and the blankets and sheets. It had been a trying day, but Holly had stuck with her. It wasn't the first time the pathologist had taken the full-force of Gail Peck and not backed down or turned tail. It certainly wouldn't be the last either. She could feel the rise and fall of Holly's breaths, not yet evened out to the steady, deep cadence of sleep.

"Holly?"

Holly's arm tightened around the blonde, fingers unconsciously finding Gail's and intertwining them. "Yeah, Gail?"

"Thanks for putting up with me."

Holly ducked her head down, lips caressing the baby hairs at the back of Gail's neck. She pressed a kiss to the skin, and Gail could feel the smile curling the corners of Holly's mouth. "No problem, babe."

* * *

_The venture of dating Gail Peck is one only to be undertaken by those with the utmost measure of resilience and fortitude…and a certain peace of mind. Because, in truth, dating Gail Peck is an endeavor in and of itself._

* * *

_And boom. There ya go. Hope this was enjoyable for everyone. Thanks so much to everyone who took a chance on the sneak peek we posted on Tumblr, and I hope this lived up to expectations. As usual, please let us know what you think here on FFN or over at Tumblr. I try to respond to all of them! And, of course, come and see us over at Twitter! We end to post little sneak peeks on both._

_ Oh! And a very, very thank you to our special expert, Vanessa – __**aeducaan**__ on Tumblr – who gives us a double-check on the fic to make sure we make things acceptably Canadian…or at least not so blatantly American. _

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	2. Lesson 1: Friends

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters represented in this fiction. They are the property of the creative minds behind the television series.

**Rating:** T

**Chapter Summary:** For better or for worse, 15 Division is a family, and it turns out their notions of family are vastly superior to Holly's.

_Wow, wow, wow! The response to this fic has been amazing! Thanks to everyone who liked, favorited, followed, and reviewed. You guys are all amazing! CJ and I appreciate it all._

_So, I know we're all reeling from the last episode, which ties into a lot with this chapter. Please enjoy our version of a fix-it. Hopefully it doesn't disappoint. Once again, the 10-codes used in this chapter can be referenced through the 10-codes used for the Ottawa Police Service._

_And a very special thanks to our experts -__** Nikki**__, our resident forensics guru and __**Vanessa**__, our remote Canadian – for helping us with the logistics!_

* * *

LESSON 1  


"Practically" Family and "Are" Family Do Not Constitute Similar Notions

_ In any relationship, it's almost like a right of passage for a significant other to experience the gauntlet of 'meeting the family'. In this encounter, or series of encounters, one is able to gauge how serious the relationship is, how serious the relationship has the potential to be, and even how seriously screwed one is concerning the caliber of impending in-laws._

_ It's a very serious watermark._

_ With someone like Gail, however, the process of 'meeting the family' is – characteristically and unsurprisingly – complicated._

_ Everyone knows who Gail's family is. The surname Peck or some familial association to the Pecks is sprinkled throughout the various branches of authority within the Metropolitan Police Service from rookie to brass. But that's not the family a potential significant other should be worried about – even as formidable as Superintendant Elaine Peck may be._

_ No. _

_One should truly be worried about Gail's fellow officers in 15 Division. They represent the true fulcrum when it comes to Gail's romantic pursuits. Their opinions weigh much more than any of the other opinions that could possibly arise from the various members of the Peck clan._

_Because, let's be honest, Gail thrives on defiance. She is not above continuing a relationship just out of spite._

_ So, like any other worthwhile relationship, to truly ensure a positive trajectory and extensive longevity, one must seek the approval of the most important people in Gail's life…_

_Who may or may not constitute an entire police division._

_These are the people who have seen Gail at her best and her worst, who have comforted her through the tough times and shared in the tragedies. And if one really wishes to solidify any romantic entanglement with Gail Peck, that person must go through the officers and detectives of 15. _

_ Do not be afraid of the fact that all persons occupying the aforementioned categories just happen to be licensed and trained to carry and use high-caliber firearms._

…_It's easier to just pretend they don't. _

At times, Holly could readily admit she struggled to comprehend this unspoken, impenetrable bond police officers held. She could rationalize the notion, could understand its implications, but she had to admit the idea that the diverse personalities that made up 15 Division could operate in a manner that held the connotation towards familial relations was a bit baffling.

She had seen some of the very, very worst of the interactions between the officers of 15. She had seen a knockout, drag-out fight between Gail and Nick that nearly came to blows. She had seen Chris and Dov almost kill each other, a fight that _did_ come to blows and left Dov with a black eye and Chris with a bloody lip. Even with all that, Holly had known that Gail tackled a subject to the ground who had nearly caught Nick unawares. She heard the accounts of Dov diving into a swirling river to pull Chris out when as he slipped and fell pursuing a man who had killed his mistress.

Holly thought she knew the definition of friendship. She thought the friendships she had were strong and resilient, the type of friendships people marveled at and strove to model their own after.

She was wrong.

Dead wrong.

And she never in her wildest dreams thought that the wildly erratic, semi-dysfunctional officers of 15 Division would be the ones who taught her that.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The first time that Gail extended an invitation to hang out at the Black Penny, Holly was unsure of how she would be received. Everyone who worked in or around the law enforcement community knew that the Penny was almost exclusively a cop bar. While she worked in conjunction with many of the officers and detectives of the various divisions, at the core she was a pathologist, an interloper to the sanctity of their escape away from the rigors of duty. And the prospect of this meeting and finding herself surrounded by Gail's closest friends, Holly could certainly justify being suitably intimidated. It wouldn't be that far of a leap to assume she might feel out of place amidst the group of cops Gail had shared her rookie years with.

As they entered the bar, Holly was relieved to find Chris had corralled a table with enough chairs to accommodate the group coming in. He was the first one who had extended a welcome to her after that strained introduction in the hospital lobby, and since then, she could understand why Gail was so fond of him despite their romantic relationship not coming to fruition. He truly was a sweetheart, she mused, and as she made her way to the table, Chris stood, shooting her a wide, friendly smile.

"Hey, Holly."

She accepted his kiss to the cheek as he slung a long arm around her shoulders. "Hey, Chris."

"Gail getting drinks?" At her affirmative nod, he glanced to the bar. "I'll help her."

Dov and Andy sidled into the Penny just as Chris and Gail returned with the first round. Gail slid a drink in front of her girlfriend, motioning to Holly.

"Dov, Andy, this is Holly."

As introductions were made, they huddled around the table, waiting for Traci and Chloe.

"So, Holly, how did you and Gail meet?" Andy asked, leaning back in her chair. "I mean, one day, Gail's complaining about this 'weirdo, dead people scientist' from the morgue', the next you're friends, and now you're dating."

Holly laughed. "Sounds about right," she remarked. She shrugged. "We met at a crime scene, actually. The Robby Robbins case. She was actually kind of mean to me."

Dov barked out a laugh. "I would say I'm surprised, but I'd be lying."

Gail leaned over, pushing at his head. "I will have you know, Epstein, I am a very nice person!"

"When the moon is blue and vampires are walking the streets," Dov deadpanned.

"Whatever, you love me anyway."

"Anyway, when I got home, I realized she stole my phone and put her number in…" Holly shrugged. "The rest is kind of history."

Gail smirked, nudging Holly. "Tell them what my first text was."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Oh, God…" She shook her head, reciting the message. "'You should really change the passcode to your phone. Your random numbers are no match for my superior police officer intellect.'"

Gail's smirk widened as she rotated her wrist, gesturing for Holly to continue. Holly obliged. "And then I texted back, 'It's not random, it's my birthday.'"

The chorus of groans emanating from her audience reached her ears as they quickly surmised her misstep, and she paused. Chris shook his head, voicing the officers' shared thought. "Rookie move," he lamented.

Holly nodded sagely. "Yep, I gathered," she lamented. "Gail answered, 'Thank you for that. I'll have the results of your background check momentarily.'"

Gail shrugged unabashedly, looking wholly triumphant as the rookies roared with laughter and good-natured jibes at Holly's expense. "Gotta be quick on your feet, Dr. Stewart," she crowed. "You're playing with cops now."

Holly inclined her head, lofting her drink in a toast. "Lesson learned," she affirmed. Her eyes drifted to Dov as he perked up, and she followed his gaze to find a petite woman with dark auburn hair waving from the entrance.

Gail also noticed the newcomer and groaned, earning herself a swift kick to the shin from Dov and a mouthed warning to 'Play nice!'. Gail glared, retaliating with a much harder kick, causing Dov to jolt forward in his seat with a grimace.

Holly tilted her head. "Is that…?"

Gail answered the unfinished query with a nod. "Princess Sunshine herself."

"Also known as Chloe Price," Dov interjected. He refrained from kicking Gail again, knowing she wouldn't stop at his shin.

Chloe bounced over to Dov, plopping herself firmly in his lap and greeting him with a long kiss. Holly smirked to herself. She could see how the other woman would drive Gail batty. The other officer practically radiated happiness and joy even months removed from a bullet to the neck. Considering Gail's rather cynical view of the world around her and her healthy disrespect for everything in existence, Chloe certainly represented quite the foil to her loveable curmudgeon.

Dov wrapped his arms around her, accepting her kiss with a goofy grin as he commenced introductions. "Baby, this is Gail's Holly."

"Nice to meet you," Chloe chirped, smiling brightly. "Chloe."

Holly returned the sentiment, jumping slightly as a hand fell on her shoulder. She turned her gaze to find Traci Nash smiling down at her. The detective threw her jacket over the back of the last empty chair, dropping heavily down into the seat.

"Dr. Stewart," Traci drawled, pulling her drink towards her and taking a grateful sip. "Long time no see."

Holly chuckled, inclining her head in agreement. "Detective Nash. It's nice to talk to you without a dead body in the way."

Andy reclined back in her chair. "What took you so long?"

Traci groaned, taking another healthy drink. "Stabbing in O.P.," she responded. A weary hand ran over her face as she finally relaxed after a long, trying day. "We had to hold the scene for the blood stain analysts to finish."

Holly hummed, nodding her sympathy. "Yeah, they take forever."

"They certainly aren't our thorough and efficient medical examiner," Traci jibed lightly as she shot a grin over to Holly. "So there will be some work for you tomorrow."

Holly smiled happily as Gail scowled at the prospect. "Thanks, Nash," Gail hissed. "As if she needs to spend _more_ time in the lab."

"If you're nice, Gail, I might even let you bring the rest of the evidence down to the morgue," Traci retorted.

Holly nudged Gail with a smirk. "Doesn't the courier usually do that?"

Gail returned the smirk. "He might be sick," she countered. "Or…something."

For his part, Dov waggled his eyebrows, glancing around at the table. "And now that we're all here…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

They had all groaned in stereo when Dov pulled out his ever-present stack of trivia cards but humored him when he suggested teams. Traci bowed out, citing exhaustion, but conceded to playing trivia master.

What began as a three-team match soon became a dirty fight between Dov and Holly for trivia dominance. The current score reflected Holly's merciless evisceration of Dov by over two hundred points.

Traci lofted their latest card, reading out the question. "Triskaidekaphobia is an abnormal fear of what?"

"The number thirteen," Holly answered almost immediately before Dov even had time to turn the question over in his mind.

"Points to Dr. Stewart!" Traci affirmed.

"How do you even know that?!" Dov howled, throwing up his hands.

"It's Greek," Holly answered with a blithe shrug. "If you break down the word, you have an actual literal interpretation: _tris_ is 'three', kai is 'and', _deka_ is 'ten', and _phobos_ is, of course, 'fear' or 'morbid fear'. So, I mean the word is basically 'three and ten fear'.

"Are you going to tell me you speak Greek?" Dov interjected. "Because if you do, I think I'm just going to bow out right now to save myself from further humiliation."

Holly laughed. "No, I don't speak Greek. But I do admit I have an unfair advantage. A lot of words used in medical terminology derive their bases, prefixes, or suffixes from Greek and Latin," she explained.

Dov grumbled his response, tossing his scorecard on the table, conceding defeat as Chloe consoled him, a smile barely playing on her lips.

"So, I mean, we call you 'Dr. Stewart'," Chris piped up, leaning forward onto the table. "I'm assuming that means you have your MD."

Holly took a sip of her drink, her hand falling naturally onto Gail's thigh. "Uh-huh," she affirmed, shooting a smile as her girlfriend began idly running her fingers through her hair. She became so entranced at the gentle motion that she almost didn't catch Chris's follow-up question.

"I'm curious," he remarked. "I mean, none of us really have advanced schooling and people know it takes a lot to be a doctor, but it's not like anyone's ever told me exactly how it works." He shrugged. "Do you have any other degrees?"

As all eyes slid to her, Holly seemed to hesitate. She looked down at her drink, answering shortly before taking another sip. "Seven."

The entire table paused as they allowed that to sink in. Andy spoke first. "I'm sorry…what?"

"Well, I have two Bachelor's degrees in Pathology and Biology, Master's in Pathology and Microbiology, my medical degree, and two other doctorates in Pathology and Microbiology." She shrugged. "So if we're counting my MD...seven."

Traci pondered that for a moment. "How long were you in school?"

"Including residency?" Holly's head bobbed from side to side. "Give or take sixteen years or so."

Despite the fact they were currently occupying a table in a very crowded, noisy bar, at that point a person could hear a pin drop. Almost in unison, each of the cops took a lengthy drink.

"Geeze," Chris muttered, draining his glass. "And I barely made it through the twenty weeks of Cadet-In-Training."

Dov's mouth opened and closed before he spluttered out his own comment. "And that's all here?"

Holly answered in the negative. "No. I moved around Canada for the most part. Undergrad was here in Toronto, med school over in Montreal. I received my doctorates from Johns Hopkins in the States though."

"So, you're like a genius," Chloe surmised.

Holly laughed at that. "I wouldn't call myself a genius," she hedged. "I just really like to read about new and different things, and I'm kind of a sponge."

"She's got one of those weird memories," Gail interjected, a wide grin on her face. "She, like, never forgets anything." Her eyes narrowed. "Except donuts in the morning."

Holly shook her head. "I refuse to perpetuate the cycle of your horrendous eating habits," she pronounced. "It's bad enough you go through the amount of coffee you do."

The rookies watched their exchange with smiles on their faces. This side of Gail wasn't readily available for consumption, so they certainly relished the moments when it peeked out.

Dov glanced between the two of them, teasing Gail lightly. "You are so out of Gail's league."

Gail laughed, glaring playfully at him. "Wouldn't be the first time we've had someone way beyond our expectations." She leveled a significant look his way.

His brow furrowed as he thought about that. "Sue?"

Chris snorted, nodding his agreement. "She did save you from being blown up, man…"

Holly's eyebrows quirked upward. "Are we talking literally or…?"

Andy shook her head. "Yeah," she asserted. "Very much literally. He stepped on pressurized floor in a booby-trapped meth lab."

Dov nodded. "ETF had to bail my ass out," he remarked. "One step and…" He mimicked the sound of an explosion, accompanying the gesture with his hands.

Holly wrinkled her nose. "That's morbid."

Gail shook her head. "He's not the first to inadvertently stumble into a situation where one end possibility is death," she remarked. "We've all done it. Also not the first to have a love connection in dire circumstances."

Andy lofted a hand. "Held a grenade once," she supplied. "Sam was with me. He told me he loved me right before an ETF tech disarmed it." She cocked her head. "Now that I think about it, the tech guy was kind of a badass. He just wiggled a pin right back into the slot."

"There might be something to be said about a guy that only tells you he loves you when you have an explosive device in your hand," Gail mused. "And even more to be said about you leaving for six months on assignment…"

Andy rolled her eyes. "No worse than running to big brother during rookie initiation here at the Penny our first day," she shot back. "What exactly does that say about _you_, Peck?"

Gail canted her head defiantly. "Oliver said we had to get out of the handcuffs," she reminded her fellow officer. "He never gave us any sort of restrictions to _how_…"

Holly watched the tennis ball match with growing confusion. "I'm sorry," she cut in. "But when did this happen? The last time you two had an interaction, she was cursing your existence to me after."

Andy and Gail exchanged a significant look. The road to their reconciliation was still ongoing, and it would be awhile until they recaptured that closeness they once had. But they were getting there, and Gail certainly relished their reconnection.

"Please," Gail scoffed. "We're family. I've seen Chris's guts spilling out of his abdomen – not to mention his penis." She flashed Chris a grin when he rolled his eyes. "And I've taken the fall for all of these suckers." She shrugged. "It's gonna take a lot more than Nick Collins to screw that up." A slightly evil expression crossed her pretty features. "Plus," she drawled. "It also means McNally owes me until the end of time."

Andy rolled her eyes, shooting a broken pretzel across the table, grinning in triumph when it smacked Gail in the forehead.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Holly received her first inkling that perhaps her friendships were vastly overestimated the first time that she invited Gail to meet Lisa and Rachel.

That was an unmitigated disaster.

To say the least.

Immediately, Holly noticed the difference. The bar was the same; she had convinced Rachel and Lisa to meet them at the Penny in an attempt to give Gail some sense of comfort, but the atmosphere was different. What was once warm and friendly now seemed tense and anxious.

Holly bore no pretenses that her friends could be snobs. They flaunted their PhDs and MDs like badges of well-earned, superficial honor. They enjoyed the windfalls of the prestige and financial benefit holding those titles and designations afforded them. What she didn't count on was that those elitist outlooks subconsciously revealing themselves the very moment Holly wanted Rachel and Lisa to make the best possible impression.

She should have known Gail would catalogue every reaction, every expression, every minutia change in body language and come to the conclusion that Rachel and Lisa were finding her substandard to their visions of her ideal partner.

Holly also should have known Lisa would be her normal, catty, judgmental self and take the opportunity to let Holly know exactly how she felt about Gail.

…and of course Gail would overhear it.

The exchange echoed in her mind, a constant mantra that only served to pile on the guilt and hurt that seemed to claim every once of her existence as of late.

She recalled the look in Gail's eyes, the shimmering hurt that dulled normally vibrant spheres. "You know what, is that what you think?" Gail accused, the defiance still prevalent in her posture. "That I'm uneducated? Do you think I'm a blue collar? That I'm out of your league?"

Holly remembered her vehement denial even as the shame crept steadily up her spine to curve down into her chest. "I never said that…"

"Would you like to know that I think?" An angry gaze flicked over to where Lisa still sat, eyeing their exchange warily, and Holly inwardly winced. "I think that botched boob job that you call a best friend, I think she is an idiot. I would rather taze myself in the eye, than spend another minute with either of you."

The statement, expelled so coolly from unfazed lips, hit her solidly in the breastbone. She should have anticipated this reaction, Holly figured. She knew this was exactly how Gail operated. Still, she couldn't deny how much that hurt, and Holly barely managed a response. "What are you saying?"

Gail's posture and intonation turned deceptively flippant, and Holly braced herself for the scathing retort she knew was just lingering behind that bow mouth. She didn't have to wait long. Gail certainly wasn't one to keep others in suspense.

"I don't know. You're a doctor, why don't you just figure it out." The barest of sneers flickered in the blonde's features, callous and looking to wound deep. "Hey, don't look so upset," she chided lightly. "We're just having fun right?"

Holly had called out to her, to no avail, of course.

Which led her to her current predicament of hanging out on the sidewalk of Casa Peck-Epstein-Diaz like some creeper while she waited for Gail to return from Fight Night. She was honestly surprised 15 hadn't been called, but she supposed the occupants of the building knew that they shared space with three cops.

She didn't have to wait long before Chris's Jeep pulled up to the curb, and Gail's form spilled out of the passenger side door. Holly straightened, calling out to the blonde, and Gail halted, spinning around.

Gail's brows drew together as she took in Holly. The pathologist was leaning against the driver's side door of her car, clearly waiting. Chris idled in the car, his head poking out of the partially opened door, his eyes trained on his partner for a signal. He wasn't sure what was going on, but the tension between the two women gave him pause.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you." Holly ducked her head, nudging her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "And to apologize for Lisa."

Gail rolled her eyes, her posture defensive yet belligerent at the same time. She craned her neck to Chris, sending him away with a short nod. As he disappeared back into the truck, pulling away from the curb and turning the corner to the apartment's parking lot, she returned her attention back to Holly. "Why?" she asked. "Because of what she said or because I heard it?"

Holly sighed. She knew this wasn't going to be easy. Gail would never allot her that convenience; it was one of the things she adored the most about the blonde. Her head fell to one side, eyes imploring. "Gail…"

A corner of Gail's mouth quirked upward in a sardonic smirk. "You think I haven't heard that before?" she posed, the question a clear rhetorical one. "You honestly think that thought hasn't crossed my mind?"

Holly didn't answer, merely glanced away.

Gail scoffed derisively. "Holly, I am very well aware you are completely out of my league." She shook her head. "That wasn't what hurt because in the end, you're the idiot making the decision to be with a moron like me."

"Gail…"

The entreaty was clear in Holly's tone, but Gail pushed forward, determined to say her piece. "No, what really hurt is when you said you were 'having fun'." Gail lofted her chin defiantly, her mouth set in a grim line. "When exactly were we just having fun, Holly? When we waited in a hospital lobby to see if three of my friends were going to be okay? When I was sitting on your bathroom floor with my hair in my hand? When every time I stepped out of 15 Division, I was terrified that I would be the next one to get a bullet in the neck and the last time I saw you I was blowing you off?"

Holly honestly didn't have an answer to that, and she stiffened as each accusation battered against the already fragile hold she had on her emotions.

Gail's arms crossed boldly over her chest. "Because I have to tell you, your perception of fun is very different from mine."

"Gail, Lisa doesn't know you," Holly pleaded. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

"You're right, Holly. Lisa _doesn't_ know what she's talking about," Gail conceded. Her eyes were hard, piercing, and she wasn't giving Holly an inch. "I've seen dozens of Lisas," Gail remarked. "They're the ones who take advantage of the security we allot them. They're the ones who live in their glass houses, looking down on the world and measuring everyone else against the bullshit, superficial standards they think mean something. They make the big stink about the speeding ticket because how dare someone like me hold them to the same standard as the _common_ people." Gail advanced slowly, placing herself just beyond arms reach, leaning in to drive her point home. "Until that_ beat cop_ is the only thing standing in the way of the gun-waving maniac and them. Then, and only then, do they respect the badge and what it stands for."

Holly had never been privy to this side of Gail, this curt, immoveable force who in her moments of hurt and vulnerability took the storm of emotions raging inside of her and channeled them into a barely perceivable rage that simmered just beneath the surface. This was the side of Gail that appeared when facing off against a suspect, the tough, uncompromising authoritarian wholly confident and secure in herself and her place in the pecking order.

"But _you_ do," Gail continued. "You know exactly what you're talking about. And the fact that you didn't say anything besides 'I'm having fun' says a whole lot about how you view us." Gail canted her head. "And you should definitely know that I've never been about the feelings thing but for some reason, I can do the feelings thing with you."

That was what pierced the deepest, and Holly let her eyes drift shamefully to the ground. She wasn't sure what she expected next, but it surprised her slightly when Gail spoke again.

"Do you remember what you told me about what you were doing the first time we met?"

The non sequitur came out of nowhere, and when Holly lofted her gaze, Gail was regarding her carefully, her expression not betraying anything. "You said you were putting together a puzzle," she remarked. "And just by looking at the bones, you figured out that pile had been a male in his early twenties who had been hit by a truck." She continued her train of thought conversationally. "It made me wonder…How did all of that suddenly become just 'poking at dead people'?"

Holly paused, her lips parting in surprise. She had recalled that part of the conversation, but like she had so many times before, she had dismissed Lisa's disparaging commentary. At this point, it was the same thing she had always heard, but now that Holly thought about it, Gail certainly had a point. To anyone else who challenged her choice of occupation, she bristled with indignation. With Lisa, it was just one more complaint to add to the catalogue.

Gail huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. "You know, maybe Lisa isn't the problem," she mused. "If you allow them to belittle your profession like that, maybe the problem really isn't them, Holly." Gail canted her head, turning away slightly, hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket. "Maybe it's the fact you let them to do it."

For the second time that night, Gail walked away without a backwards glance.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The next few days were sheer torture for Holly. Despite the fact they hadn't been together for long, Holly could already feel the void left from Gail's absence. It certainly didn't help that she worked so closely with 15 either. Every officer that dropped by seemed to have one connection or another to Gail.

Holly glanced up at a knock on her door to find Dov's head of tousled hair poking into the lab. Once again, she felt her heart plummet to the ground. Earlier, the fresh-faced rookie Duncan Moore had run over some blood and saliva samples from homicide under the watchful eye of Andy, and Holly recalled Gail mentioning how she had negligently been calling the rookie 'Gerald' this entire time before finally learning his name. She smiled to herself at the flippant way Gail had dismissed her slight…only to remember that was the day that constituted the cause of her current misery.

Plastering a smile on her face, she waved him in. "Dov, hey."

"Holly," he greeted simply. He lofted his boon, placing it on her lab table. "Clothes from the suspect. Traci wants to know if you can pull DNA."

Holly nodded, motioning over to the rest of the samples. Dov moved over to the appropriate table put the bag down beside the others, shoving his hands in his pockets. He lingered, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

"Did something happen between you and Gail?"

That caught her attention, and her eyes snapped upward to meet Dov's. She swallowed hard, attempting to seem nonchalant. "Did she say something?"

Dov shook his head slowly, his gaze searching hers. "No. She doesn't talk a lot about you. What I got, I nearly had to browbeat out of her." He shrugged. "I don't know…Lately, she's been a lot more…Gail-like than usual."

Holly sighed, debating inwardly with herself. "She overheard some things my friends said that weren't too complimentary," she explained. "We…fought, and she left. I guess she went to Fight Night."

"Ah." Dov nodded, not needing her to explain further. He glanced up at her and opened his mouth before closing it again, apparently reconsidering whatever thought flashed through his mind. He seemed torn or a moment, fidgeting from side to side. Before Holly could ask what was wrong, Dov charged forward again.

"Look, it's probably half my fault," he admitted. "I was there when you two made plans that night, and I said some things I probably shouldn't have said." He rubbed the back of his neck. "They probably made her more on-edge than usual."

Holly tilted her head in curiosity. "What did you say?"

Dov sighed. "Things that went with the day's theme of extremely bad word choice on my part," he hedged. "Like how bad of a first impression she usually makes, comments on her ambiguous sexuality…"

At Holly's thunderous glare, he winced.

"Yeah," Dov breathed. "Not one of my finer moments." His shoulders slumped. "I just…I don't know. It's hard to tell how serious Gail's being in a relationship," he explained. "And the fact that she never talked about you…" Dov shrugged helplessly. "I was just…looking out for her, you know? She's been hurt pretty bad. First with Chris, then with Nick…really bad with Nick."

Holly sighed, shaking her head. "It's not your fault," she consoled him. "A lot of things happened that night that I wish could have happened differently."

Dov nodded. He jumped slightly as his radio squawked.

_Dispatch, 1512._

Dov shot her an apologetic look, craning his head to acknowledge the call. "1512."

_Possible 10-41C, can you respond?_

"Copy. What's the 20?"

Dov noted the address, nodding to himself. He paused at the doorway, turning back. "Holly?" As she met his gaze, Dov hesitated before offering out one more nugget. "Whatever happened, I hope you guys can get past it." He offered her a small smile. "She's…she's different with you. She even admitted your relationship is different, and she thinks she's better with you." He shrugged. "A lot of the time, Gail doesn't think she's good enough, so…"

Dov had left with one more smile, and that exchange echoed in repeat in her mind as she was dragged to lunch with Lisa and Rachel later in the day. The other two women chattered mindlessly, but Holly stayed silent, thinking about Dov's words. She leaned back, taking in the two women she called her closest friends, women from whom she had been inseparable since the day they had all met in medical school.

She had seen them grow into themselves as doctors and surgeons, and they used their medical degrees in various superficial ways. For Lisa, it was the money; she was well on her way to becoming Toronto's go-to surgeon for reconstruction, and she only worked with the most elite of clientele. For Rachel, it was the prestige; she was after the shiny awards, the glossy magazine covers, and the infamy. She was determined to walk away from the profession with a Nobel Prize or a Lasker Award, anything that would cement herself in history.

For Holly, her ambitions were a bit less grandiose. She wasn't quite sure where her sense of justice came from, but ever since she took that first course all the way back during her undergraduate studies, she knew that forensic pathology would be her expertise of choice. There was just something so…rewarding helping families reach some sort of closure in their tragedy. She was by no means completely altruistic, but it was infinitely fulfilling when she provided the information that helped the detectives apprehend the perpetrator. Perhaps that was the difference between her and the girls. It was never about herself. It was about the victim and giving them a voice to tell their story.

"Holly?" Lisa's voice cut through her musings, and the brunette nudged her gently. "You okay over there?"

Holly mustered up a smile. "I'm fine."

Lisa didn't believe her for a second, eyes raking over Holly's features before the realization hit. "Oh, God," she groaned, the derision clear on her face. "Are you still stuck on the beat cop?"

Beat cop.

The words reverberated in Holly's mind, and she returned to the evening before and Gail's own words as she challenged Holly's terminology of 'having fun'. Holly remembered the fear that chilled her veins when she heard of Kevin Ford's rampage against the officers of 15 Division. In her head, she heard Gail's steady voice telling her how an officer was shot and in the hospital and a few other officers took fire. It had taken Holly a split second to correctly surmise that Gail was subtly alluding to herself. A vision of the dubious look that crossed Gail's features when Holly questioned her sanity in returning to the streets flashed in her consciousness again, and the accompanying exchange echoed in her ears.

"Yeah, Holly…I'm a police officer," Gail had stated bluntly.

"That doesn't mean you have to put yourself in danger!"

"Yeah," Gail countered. "Kinda does."

The way she said it, so straightforward, so blithely, had given Holly pause. In Gail's mind, there was no hiding, no shying away from her duty. Kevin Ford may have been hunting them, but that wasn't going to stop Gail from fulfilling her oath to protect and serve the innocent of Toronto.

Those were not the actions of a simple beat cop.

A simple beat cop would not have comprehended the gravity of the situation; a simple beat cop would have thought herself invincible, untouchable, bolstered by the badge. Gail knew exactly what she was walking into, and she was terrified. Yet still, she soldiered on, continuing to safeguard the city even with the knowledge that she was being targeted simply because of her association with her division.

"Holly?"

Shaken once again from her thoughts, Holly answered Lisa's first inquiry. "Don't call her that," she snapped. "It's degrading."

Lisa recoiled slightly, surprised at the vehemence in Holly's tone. Still, she recovered enough to roll her eyes. "Sweetie, I really hate to break it to you, but that's what she _is_."

"And?" Holly knew she was probably too belligerent, but the guilt and hurt were a potent combination that aptly fueled her hostility. "You may think that, but I promise you, she is so much more than a beat cop."

As Lisa stared, unsure of where this violent defense came from, Holly felt herself sink into the rambling rush of words that usually required Gail's kiss to stem the never-ending flow. "Every day, she straps on a bulletproof vest and gives herself to this city, despite the fact that sometimes it can be a cruel, punishing bitch, and every single day, I worry that…" Holly trailed off, her expression going blank. "Oh, God…"

Even Rachel seemed thrown by the slight change of pace. "What?"

"I worry that it might be the last time I see her, and my last words to her were something stupid or meaningless." Holly shook her head, becoming a rush of movement as she gathered her things. "I'm an idiot…"

"Holly!" Lisa's voice followed her as Holly hurriedly stood, throwing down money on the table. "Holly, where are you going?"

"I gotta find Gail."

This time, Lisa's tone reflected irritated anger. "Seriously, Holly? You're going to settle for _her_? Just like you settled for the coroner's office?"

Holly whirled, the anger in her own expression overpowering whatever annoyance Lisa attempted to convey. "You know what, I'm not settling for anything. I _love_ my job. You see it as poking at dead bodies? Well, I see it as catching criminals. I'm ridding this world of bad people, you're ridding the world of people who are perceived to be lacking when measured against society's standards of beauty." Holly leveled a serious glare on her friend. "You tell me whose job is more worthwhile."

Lisa spluttered, truly unable to muster up a comeback or any sort of remark.

Bolstered, Holly leaned in closer, making sure Lisa heard every word, refusing to let her friend escape from the truths she was about to impart. "And for the record, Gail is hardly just the beat cop you think she is. She's gone undercover to catch a serial killer preying on women because she was physically similar to his victims. That same man assaulted her, drugged her, abducted her, and stabbed her colleague to death in front of her when he tried to rescue her." Holly's eyes hardened. "But the amazing part is that a year later, she still found the courage to face down that bastard. To let him see her, talk to her, _taunt_ her so that they could catch a copycat. All those demons coming at her at once, and she looked him dead in the eye and didn't allow him to see her falter, even as she revealed something she knew would completely destroy her relationship at the time to a man just on the other side of a one-way mirror."

Holly straightened, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "Gail has strength that I could never even dream of possessing." She turned away with one more parting shot. "_She's_ out of _my_ league."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Holly set about her plan to unashamedly beg for Gail's forgiveness, she thought about the two groups of people that made up their respective social circles.

When the rookies ribbed Gail about Holly being totally out of her league, it was with fond, teasing affection. Whether or not they truly believed that fact was irrelevant; they were just ecstatic Gail was visually showing happiness. At the core, Gail hadn't changed; she was still cantankerous, still curmudgeonly, and still reviled the universe with her trademarked aloof disregard. The only difference was that Holly was able to coax more smiles and more laughs out of the blonde and seemingly had the ability to keep Gail's sharp tongue in check with a simple touch.

Yet, when Lisa had mentioned the same notion, it seemed to have something less than good intentions, spoken through lips loosened by alcohol and intoned with derisive dismissal.

Contrasting the two events gave Holly pause.

And in that moment, Holly realized something. When she had described Lisa and Rachel, she used the term '_practically_ family'. When Gail had described her fellow officers from 15, she said without pretense they '_were_ family'.

And that was the fundamental difference.

As much as it pained her to admit the fact, her relationship with Rachel and Lisa had begun because of convenience, and they just never strayed away from one another. There was an element of fierce, unrelenting competition that characterized their friendship. Holly didn't really particularly care for that aspect, but she knew it certainly motivated Rachel and Lisa. In their minds, Holly had won medical school by graduating first in their class, a fact that Holly knew Lisa especially envied. Holly remembered how Lisa had congratulated her back then behind a tight, insincere smile when the rankings came out, and the plastic surgeon had finished a distant fifth. Considering how Rachel and Lisa perceived themselves to be seemingly ahead in their careers, Holly was aware it gave both women a sort of satisfaction to hold that over her head, and she wasn't blind to the fact Lisa took considerable joy in reminding Holly she made twice as much of a yearly salary.

It was a similar situation with Gail and her friends, but in the same breath that Gail boasted her triumph to Dov at the gun range upon a good lashing, she also offered him a correction to help his proficiency. She may have sandwiched the offering between a pair of characteristic Gail Peck one-liners, but the sentiment was certainly apparent.

The easy acceptance of her as Gail's significant other was certainly something Holly didn't anticipate. Oliver had perked up when Gail had introduced them, and Holly honestly thought the older officer was ready to adopt her right then and there. And Chloe had complimented her on bringing out the more desirable aspects of Gail's admittedly complicated personality.

"I once told Gail she was a terrible person," the petite, auburn-haired officer commented to her at the Penny. At the time, Holly felt her hackles rise in defense of the blonde. Anyone who truly knew her was well aware Gail was far from a terrible person. But Chloe continued before Holly could speak. She smiled brightly. "And it was true once. But not anymore. You're good for her. She's still Gail, but now she's more…" Chloe shook her head, unsure of how to categorize this Gail she wasn't quite accustomed to. "She's just…different. And it's good."

Holly had been cursing herself for allowing this type of doubt to creep into their relationship. The offbeat cat analogy Gail had imparted to her during their first meeting had stuck with her, and like an idiot, Holly had played right into Gail's compulsions. She handed Gail that emergency situation. True to form, the blonde grabbed it and ran.

And that was also why she found herself idling, once more, outside of Gail's apartment with a couple of olive branches in her hand.

Holly braced herself, bestowing a bit of a pep talk before she lofted her less-encumbered fist. Her knock was soft, but it seemed to echo as the nervousness coursed through her body.

Holly held her breath when door opened, and Gail masked her surprise in finding Holly on the other side. The forensic pathologist thrust forward a bottle of bourbon and a container filled with what looked like light orange, flavored awesomeness. Gail recoiled suspiciously. "What the hell?"

Holly shrugged. "I find your cheese puff obsession mildly disturbing, but I figured I'd give it a try."

A platinum blonde eyebrow arched upward. "You're not up on your statutory law, are you?" Gail mocked in an insinuation to their very first exchange down in the woods. She crossed her arms. "Because bribing a police officer is a serious crime. I'd hate to see you go away for fourteen years."

Holly frowned dubiously. "Seriously?"

"Maximum sentence," Gail affirmed. "And since I'm a Peck…"

Holly pursed her lips, considering that point. "Huh," she remarked. "That is actually a bit terrifying." Holly shrugged. "Still worth it. I gotta go with what I know."

Holly could see Gail shift, glancing between her and the offering of food. Her features were tense, posture rigid, trying desperately to hold onto her anger and indignation. Finally, Gail's shoulders relaxed, and she sighed, stepping back from the doorway. "Whatever. Come in, I guess." Gail snatched the Tupperware container, heading over to the couch.

Holly followed her inside the apartment, gauging Gail's temperament closely. She could see the weariness in Gail's carriage, the air of defeated exhaustion. It hurt to know she had played a part in Gail's current state.

Gail plopped onto the couch, eyeing Holly dismissively. "It's not gonna work, you know…" she drawled, even as she ripped open the lid, taking a puff out and popping it in her mouth. "I'd like to think I have enough wherewithal to withstand your feeble…" The explosion of flavor made her eyes roll in the back of her head. "What the…?" Gail's eyes dropped incredulously to the Tupperware container. "Did you sprinkle this with crack?"

Holly shook her head, hovering at the edge of the armrest. "Nope. Made them."

"You _made_ cheese puffs?!"

"There's a recipe for everything online," Holly reasoned as Gail forgot all sense of propriety, shoveling a fistful into her mouth.

Gail audibly moaned, mumbling around her bite. "Fuck it, you're forgiven. Only if you keep making these. Although…" she chewed and swallowed, her hand already reaching for more, "I can now see the benefit of fighting and having you grovel at my feet."

It was Gail's own version of an olive branch, and Holly was well aware this would all be revisited in the near future. Still, she was a doctor; she figured it out. She smiled, sliding down beside Gail.

"You know, normally people have sex to celebrate the end of an argument," she remarked.

"We can totally do that too."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Despite the ease of that initial exchange, Holly was all too cognizant that earning Gail's forgiveness was not that easy. That serious heart-to-heart concerning their relationship occurred in the afterglow of the makeup sex Holly had hinted to.

Ensconced in Gail's bed and facing one another, Holly had never felt so laid bare. Literally, she was naked, with only a thin sheet protecting her modesty. Figuratively, she felt as though this ordeal had shifted something in their dynamic. And in Gail's bed, in her messy room, in the apartment she shared with Dov and Chris, the world around them faded away. The fears and the pretenses were left at the door, and Holly knew that this was totally worth it.

Holly drank in those ice blue eyes gazing at her mere inches away. Her own eyes traced Gail's delicate features. It was such an oxymoron. Gail had the face of an old Hollywood starlet – a Jayne Mansfield or a Marilyn Monroe – and could ooze such seduction, such sensuality. Yet, at the same time, Holly knew those delicate features belied the strength that lay within.

She reached out a hand, fingertips skipping along the dips and curves of Gail's cheekbone, Gail's jaw, down to the lush, pouty lips. She felt those lips curve against her thumb, puckering to bestow affection. And in that moment, the emotions that had been so carefully controlled, so meticulously kept in-check, welled up to the surface.

"You're beautiful," Holly breathed. "And I screwed up."

Unconsciously, Gail knew it was time for their serious talk, and she shifted closer, her eyes dropping for the scantest of moments before they lofted again. "And I kinda ran," she admitted. "And was a bit of a bitch."

Holly stumbled through her words, the English language failing to truly convey everything she wanted to say. "This…us…it's more than…anything I could describe. But it's not only 'having fun'."

Gail nodded her agreement. "We're an us," she surmised succinctly. "And as long as you want it," she shrugged. "Plus-one forever."

Holly smiled. She leaned in, nose brushing Gail's. "Plus-one forever," she affirmed.

Now, two weeks later, Holly succumbed to the notion that she would certainly be indentured to her blonde girlfriend for the foreseeable future. Holly was resigned to the fact that Gail was not above making Holly grovel and simper and, in fact, took special pleasure in batting her eyelashes for every mundane, irreverent task, knowing Holly felt compelled to comply. In any other relationship, Holly would have taken offense. With Gail, it was a form of mutual entertainment.

Still, it warmed her heart when she opened the door to find Gail huddled on the couch, watching episodes of the original _Hawaii Five-O_. The blonde was clad in sweatpants and one of Holly's Johns Hopkins hoodies, socked feet propped on the coffee table. Gail glanced up at her entrance and shot her a grin before turning back to the TV.

"Hey, you."

Holly returned the smile. She kicked off her boots, hanging her coat in the hallway closet before dumping her bag in the corner of the couch. Plopping down next to Gail, she sighed happily as Gail automatically lifted her arm, giving Holly a spot to snuggle into, her eyes not leaving the screen. The pathologist obliged, fitting herself into the cradle of Gail's side.

Holly craned her neck upward, directing Gail's lips to hers with a gentle hand to the cheek. She smiled against Gail's shoulder, returning the greeting. "Hi."

Gail's mouth curled into a grin, leaning down to seek a longer kiss. Holly's eyelids fluttered, melting into the embrace. "Hi."

Holly couldn't resist one more kiss, fingers gently stroking the soft porcelain skin in her grasp. She whimpered slightly as Gail teasingly slipped her a whisper of tongue, feeling the silent laugh from the officer at the sound.

She burrowed into Gail, slinging an arm around the blonde's stomach while Gail let her eyes soak in the melodramatic adventures of the original McGarrett and Williams. Holly hummed her satisfaction, as Gail's fingers idly combed through her hair. She breathed in Gail's comforting scent, letting her nose skate along the column of pale skin.

"Mmmmm, I'm so happy to be home," Holly groaned, letting her eyes drift shut.

"Long day?" Gail asked, nails scratching lightly against Holly's scalp.

"Boring day," Holly corrected. "I'm happy no fresh bodies crossed my slab today, but I definitely do not enjoy working with the interns."

Gail laughed. "Sounds like working with the rookies," she commented.

"I'm sure it's similar from what you've told me," Holly agreed.

A slight buzzing emanating from Holly's bag halted the conversation, but Holly ignored it, choosing to bury her face deeper in Gail's neck. They were granted a slight reprieve before the buzzing sounded again.

Gail cocked an eyebrow. "You gonna get that?"

Holly grunted, unwilling to move from her spot. "I probably should," she conceded, unfolding herself from Gail's side. "It might be MJ Nichols with a question about the samples we pulled from that creek."

Gail nodded. "Traci was telling me about that case."

Holly reached over, grabbing the strap of her bag and sliding it over. She rummaged through her depths, extracting her phone. Punching in the passcode, she took a glance at the message, reading it over. Shrugging negligently, she tossed the device on the coffee table, snuggling back into Gail.

"Not Dr. Nichols, I gather?"

Again, Holly's shoulders lifted dismissively. "It's a text from Lisa."

Gail stiffened, schooling her features into a façade of nonchalance. "Oh?"

Holly snorted, poking Gail teasingly. "Nice try," she drawled. "You're not fooling me, Officer."

Gail rolled her eyes, catching the hand and intertwining their fingers. "What did Botched Boob Job want?"

Holly chuckled. Gail's vitriol would be eternally plentiful towards Lisa – not that Holly could blame her. "She wanted to know if I was going to some fancy gala. Other doctors and stuff," Holly explained. "She's going with her latest bimbo. Rachel's going to be there too."

"So are you?"

Holly shook her head. "No, don't really want to." She played with Gail's fingers. "It's the kind of stuff we both hate."

Gail chuckled, thinking back to Frank and Noelle's wedding and their conversation in the coatroom. "The stuff we'd usually dodge?"

Holly shared in the laugh and hummed her confirmation. "Fancy dresses, inedible food that costs way too much considering the quality, people pretending to care when really they're networking or comparing pedigree…"

Gail summed up her opinion with a succinct, "Ew."

"Yeah," Holly agreed. "Besides didn't Chris say something about having people over for a rooftop barbecue over at Andy's?"

"Ye-ah…" Gail drew out the word, ice blue eyes scrutinizing Holly carefully.

Holly shrugged. "It's the same day. I'd rather do that."

Something flashed in Gail's crystal eyes, and in that moment, Holly knew everything was forgiven. Gail leaned down, brushing her lips against Holly's in a way that seemed to convey so much beyond just the simple gesture.

"You do realize Dov's going to challenge you to trivia again, right?" Gail murmured, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. "I'm pretty sure he's not gonna rest until he dethrones you as Champion of the World."

Holly smirked. "Well, then I just might have to destroy him, don't I?"

Gail's smile widened to a grin. "Baby, I'm all for Epstein humiliation. In fact, I highly encourage it." A thought occurred to her and she frowned. "Wait a second, I heard about this barbecue thing from you…"

Holly nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Which means that Chris told _you_ about it before he told _me_," Gail deduced.

"Yeah…?" Holly shrugged. "And?"

Gail softened. "You've done it now, nerd."

Holly's face reflected her confusion. "What exactly have I done?"

"You've been imprinted on," Gail explained. "15 Division has officially adopted you as one of their own."

The implication weighed heavily on Holly, but she couldn't help but think she didn't mind that notion. Burrowing close to Gail, Holly leaned in, nipping at the skin of the officer's neck, her voice dipping to a husky, lower register. "Does that mean I get a badge?"

Gail shook her head, a sly smirk curling her lips. "No, but if you're good, we can play Cops and Robbers…"

* * *

_Here's the thing about 15. They're a tight bunch. Each rookie class holds a sort of bond that is inexplicable to an outsider but readily apparent to the rest of 15. That bond extends to training officers and superiors. It's the kind of camaraderie that says, "Yeah, I've been there too. I've got your back." It can be intimidating to an interloper looking in. But the truth is, they're loyal. If you earn their trust, if you earn their affection, each and every one of them will take that bullet for you without hesitation. It just so happens it might be in a literal sense._

_So if 15 Division adopts you as one of their own?_

_Go with it._

_It's easier._

_Besides, it's nice not ever having to pay for parking tickets…_

* * *

_ And boom! There ya go, peeps! Whew…that was something more to the length I'm accustomed to writing, heh. Hope you enjoyed our venture into fixing the amazing mess that was the last episode. The next two "lessons" will be a lot less heavy and will focus on Gail's claim that she doesn't "do sports". Hilarity will follow. Thanks again for reading, and please feel free to let us know what you think here on FFN, on Tumblr, or hit us up on Twitter. We love hearing from everyone!_

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	3. Lesson 2: Subtleties

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters represented in this fiction. They are the property of the creative minds behind the television series.

**Rating:** T

**Chapter Summary:** Holly was well aware that Gail was a complex person, but she was constantly amazed at how many layers truly existed within the slight enigma that was Gail Peck.

_Well, so…I apologize for the delay. Originally, CJ and I had planned a two-set chapter chronicling Gail's irrational hatred of sports…but then the last couple episodes stirred up a different direction that seemed to flow better. So, instead of that sports chapter, we have a chapter that explores the different subtleties of Gail's personality and digs a bit deeper into what we the viewer see but her fellow rookies may not._

_As usual, thanks to our amazing support team, __**Nikki**__ and __**Vanessa**__, for their expertise. This story would not be nearly as accurate without them!_

_Onward!_

* * *

LESSON 2

The Fallacy of Initial Perceptions

_I think there's a common misconception about Gail…_

_ …Wait._

_Strike that._

_ I think there are _many_ common misconceptions about Gail._

_ Don't get me wrong, Gail Peck is a special brand of human being, the kind that is very difficult to categorize using simple terminology or broad notions. To do so is to ignore the many intricate pieces that make up a remarkable, flawed, admittedly complicated human being._

_ However, that doesn't discount the fact that those who _do_ try to pin Gail down are often very much inaccurate in their ultimate conclusion. And perhaps the most prevalent misconception about Gail is that she's cold. Even her closest friends seem to buy into that erroneous belief. Dov has commented Gail doesn't have feelings. Chris once told her she was cold "in a good way"._

_ And while Chris is normally a magnificent human being – as Officer Lunchbox…or whatever amalgamation our friends have been using for our relationship…we have always held a staunch belief Dov often toes the border of idiocy – he certainly errs in this perception._

_ Gail feels. She feels deeply and with a stunning intensity. However, Gail is subtle in showing those feelings when surrounded by people who could possibly use that display of emotion against her. Because of that, she's trained herself to hide that vulnerability, to only show it amongst those with whom she has established the utmost standard of trust._

_ People like Traci._

_ People like Oliver._

_ People like children._

_ …and I suppose people like me… _

When Holly first met Gail, immediately she realized there was something different about the woman. Initially, Holly was struck by Gail's beauty. The first thing she could remember was looking into the pale, pale blue eyes appraising her with suspicion, the sculpted eyebrows drawn over a delicate nose indicating the platinum blonde hair was anything but natural. There was the practiced air of aloof derision that oozed from a nonchalant posture that also caught her attention. It was as though Gail had indifference perfected to an art.

Gail was certainly unlike anything Holly had ever encountered before. With many people, the process of finding out what made them tick was a journey that eventually culminated in complete understanding of the subject's persona. With Gail, that process was infinitely more complicated. It seemed as though each encounter bared another layer, revealed another interesting nuance to Gail's ever evolving personality.

And Holly picked up, perhaps sooner than anyone else, that her perception of Gail should not remain static. To do so would disregard the other facets of Gail's admittedly intricate qualities.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Holly wasn't quite sure exactly when she realized the depth of Gail's multi-layered personality. However, the more Holly found herself stumbling across Gail while the latter was on patrol, the more Holly was given a certain insight to the enigma of one Gail Peck:

Officer Peck was a whole different beast entirely.

It was as though the dark blue uniform and the bulletproof vest served beyond their very literal purpose to one metaphorical as well. Strapping on her vest and duty belt was like burying the more agreeable facets of the blonde beneath the armor and weaponry, and it wasn't until the uniform, vest, and belt were stripped away that Gail's true persona came out.

Officer Peck was one of many different Gail facets and an element of the blonde that Holly was continually striving to understand. "Peckspectations" aside, from her work with Gail, Holly knew the blonde was an exceptional police officer, but one often overshadowed by the nameplate over her right breast.

Holly observed Gail as the pathologist ducked beneath the tape, taking her spot beside their unfortunate victim. As Holly commenced her initial examination of the body, the rest of the forensics team bustled about as they collected evidence. Traci stood beside her, notebook out and pen scribbling the relevant details. For her part, Gail merely stood watch, her stare drifting lazily from side to side. To anyone casually observing the scene, it would have been readily assumed Gail wasn't paying attention. Still, despite her nonchalance, Holly knew the blonde had already catalogued every inch of her surroundings into her mind. While Gail favored method over instinct, no one could deny the presence of the infamous "gut feeling" that officers like McNally or Swarek parlayed into their careers. Holly smiled as she caught her girlfriend in her normal posture of a casual slouch, hands curving naturally against the heavy belt strapped low on her hips.

Suddenly, Gail blinked, her head perking upward as she straightened. Her eyes cast a cursory glance around the area and ice blue eyes scanned every inch of her surroundings. They seemed to settle on a wall on the far side of the room, and her brows drew tightly together. Slowly, she unfolded herself from her slouch and made her way to the wall. Gail started at one corner before slowly traversing the distance to the other side. She studied the photographs on the wall, stopping at each one before moving on to the next picture.

A uniformed officer Holly was unfamiliar with nudged his partner, gesturing over to Gail as he raised his voice to shout in her direction. "Hey, Peck, you taking decorating tips over there?"

Gail rolled her eyes, not bothering with a response. Traci knew better than to simply ignore when Gail latched onto something, and the detective sidled up to her friend.

"Gail?" Traci implored softly. "You got something?"

"I don't know," Gail confessed. A pale finger pointed up at the pictures. "This isn't right," she remarked. "The rest of the frames are perfectly placed but there's this big gap." Her gaze shifted over to the paneling on the wall, and she cocked her head thoughtfully. "But there's a slight discoloration." She knocked on the wood. "And it's hollow." She frowned, leaning in closer. "And loose…"

Gail slid a hand into the pocket of her pants, extracting the folded knife from where it was clipped to the lining. Pressing the lever on the side of the handle, she released the blade and unceremoniously rammed it into the crack in the wall. Using the handle as a lever, Gail pried the panel far enough to grab onto the edge. Once the board had separated from its fellows, it was pliable, and with one strong tug, she ripped the plank away with a solid crack. What neither she nor Traci certainly didn't expect, however, was what hid behind the wall.

"Holy cheese puffs!" Gail leapt back with a yelp, stumbling back into the detective as a body tumbled out of the hole, landing at her feet with a dull thump.

Traci's mouth dropped open, catching Gail before the blonde sent them both to the ground. "Whoa!"

"Uh…" Gail popped her head up. "Forensics?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

No one could ever claim Gail was a patient person. Despite the outward appearance of unflappable poise and nonchalant ease, Gail was a bundle of carefully controlled energy. Beneath a façade of iron-fisted restraint was a woman who ruled by analytical impulse and who certainly didn't have patience for incompetence.

Therefore, it made sense that despite the fact Gail adored Oliver with every fiber of her being, she wasn't too keen on following his footsteps in her career. Gail swore up and down that she would never, ever, _ever_ be a training officer. So when Holly got the call that officers from 15 were going to observe her autopsy of their latest victim, she certainly expected Gail would be the officer they sent. What she didn't expect was to find a baby-faced young man trailing after Gail as though she held the secrets of the universe. The pathologist was rightfully confused.

As Gail trumped grumpily to a stop, Holly cocked her head in a silent question. An eyeroll was her response.

"McNally's with my brother and Traci on a sting operation," Gail explained. She thrust a thumb over her shoulder to the fresh-faced officer whose head was on a swivel in an attempt to try and absorb everything. Gail let out a long-suffering sigh. "Guess who Oliver volunteered to babysit…"

Holly frowned. "This does not compute," she drawled slowly. "Did Celery dupe him into serving as her test subject again?"

"Probably," Gail agreed. "His allergies are acting up. She said she had some sort of concoction that would fix it."

Holly laughed, not doubting that notion in the slightest. As a doctor and scientist who dealt exclusively with fact and logic, she should have been skeptical concerning Celery and the witch's unorthodox and slightly questionable methods. The evidence was certainly incontrovertible, however. Whatever otherworldly hold Celery had on the cosmos was at a definite benefit to them all. Plus, the woman was a sweetheart who had concocted many a remedy to her own ails.

"And?" Holly queried.

"It scrambled his brain enough to pair numbnuts over there with me," Gail drawled. She whipped her head around, barking at the young man. "Rookie, front and center!"

The lanky young man nearly stumbled over himself to stand beside Gail. He fidgeted nervously, clearly unnerved by the intensity radiating from the senior officer, very much a foil to Andy's earnest and nurturing manner.

"Rookie, this is Dr. Stewart," Gail began without preamble. "I am allowed to call her a multitude of different names, including but not limited to 'Doc', 'Nerd', and 'Lunchbox'. You, however, are not. You are to refer to her as either 'Dr. Stewart' or 'ma'am' and when you do so, it is with the utmost standard of respect in deference to her title." Gail's tone and posture brokered no argument. "She is not the 'dead people doc', she is not the 'forensic lady', or anything else common in the parlance of you lesser life forms. Do you understand?"

The rookie cringed slightly at the ardent strength in his training officer's tone but answered right away. "Yes, Officer Peck."

"Excellent." Gail shot out a smile rife with deceptive sweetness. "If you're lucky, she might teach you a thing or two about medical jurisprudence."

Holly was afraid the rookie's head would snap off his neck with the way he was nodding so emphatically. The young man straightened, eager to make a good impression as he stuttered out a, "G-good afternoon, Dr. Stewart, ma'am."

Holly smiled encouragingly. "Either one is fine, Officer…?"

The unvoiced query hung in the air for a few tense moments before Gail grunted her dissatisfaction. She backhanded the rookie in the arm, drawing his attention to her. A blonde eyebrow arched expectantly, she gestured to Holly.

"Introduce yourself," Gail prompted pointedly.

"Oh!" The rookie started in surprise, blurting his name out. "Kingsmill," he supplied. His face flushed with embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, Darren. Darren Kingsmill."

"Officer Kingsmill." Holly nodded. "Just one or the other works for me. You don't have to call me both." She shot him a soft, teasing look. "'Dr. Stewart, ma'am' is almost a bit redundant, don't you think?"

Kingsmill swallowed, shooting out a wavering smile, bolstered slightly at the gentle correction. "Y-yes, Dr. Stewart."

Gail nodded her approval at his respectful tone and shrugged off her uniform jacket. She gestured for his, hanging both on the rack beside Holly's puffy green coat. Leaning against the corner of Holly's desk, Gail turned her attention to the pathologist.

"So, Lunchbox," Gail drawled, abandoning her perch for a brief moment to rifle through Holly's desk drawer. She straightened, triumphantly clutching a bag of ketchup-flavored potato chips and returned to her seat. "I have it on good authority that a certain tyke of a mutual friend and colleague of ours would like to go to the science museum and you've volunteered yourself."

Holly chuckled, continuing her preliminary notes. "That would be accurate," she played along.

Gail grinned, ripping open the bag. "I've also been tasked to relay a message asking if you wouldn't mind taking him at eleven on Saturday?"

Holly paused, mentally running over her schedule. "Works for me," she affirmed. "MJ is on call this weekend."

"Awesome. I'll let Traci know." Obligatory banter over, Gail nodded to the victim. "So what do you have?"

"Male, six-feet, three-inches, two hundred-fifty pounds," Holly recited, her eyes scanning their victim from head to toe. "Cause of death is asphyxiation from strangulation, evident petechiae in the eyes - a minor hemorrhage," she explained to her rapt audience. "Body temperature indicates he couldn't have been killed more than a couple of hours before we got there." Eyes on the man's torso, Holly gestured absently to the victim's legs. "He's got fresh scarring on the right knee, so I would say he's maybe a month or two removed from surgery."

Gail hummed her acknowledgment. She popped a chip in her mouth, turning her attention to Officer Kingsmill. "Rookie!"

Kingsmill jumped at the sudden address and straightened instinctively. "Yes, Officer Peck?"

"Why are we here?"

"To observe the autopsy, Officer Peck."

"And why are we observing the autopsy?"

Kingsmill fidgeted from foot to foot, trying to think of something to adequately answer the senior officer's question. His mouth opened and closed but no sound was expelled. Gail watched him for a long moment. His body language spoke the real truth.

Gail rolled her eyes and held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you before you hyperventilate," she interjected. "It's okay to not know something, rookie. I'm not expecting you to be Carnac the Magnificent." At his blank stare, she sighed. "That might have been before your time."

"Johnny Carson was the host of _The Tonight Show_ for thirty years," Holly piped up from where she was working on the body. "He's gotta be a fetus if that was before his time."

Kingsmill frowned at the seemingly random piece of trivia. "How does she know that?"

"They don't give out medical degrees as Cracker Jack prizes," Gail remarked, gesturing with a chip to Holly's lab-issued white coat, her title, name, and rank stitched over the breast pocket bearing a patch of the forensic division. She eyed the rookie. "When were you born?"

Kingsmill hesitated, unsure. "Uh, 1992," he answered.

Gail absorbed that for a moment, turning to Holly. "Fetus?"

Holly nodded. "Fetus."

Gail hummed, popping another chip in her mouth and directing her next question to the rookie. "How did you feel not knowing something?" she asked. "Did you feel like a moron? Did you feel helpless?"

Again, Kingsmill hesitated, his posture tense and defensive.

Gail sighed. "I'm not the department shrink. I won't squeal to McNally or Sergeant Shaw. Just speak."

"A little," Kingsmill admitted, ducking his head. "I feel like _everything_ is making me feel like a moron."

"All rookies _are_ morons," Gail declared succinctly. "Embrace it." Seeing his dubious look, she grunted, muttering under her breath before her gaze found his. "Look, I don't expect you to be like Dr. Stewart and have a crazy memory and know everything about the known universe," Gail assured him as she finished her snack, crumpling up the bag and tossing it into the trash can. "If that were the case, I would think you were very, very weird."

Kingsmill frowned. "But you don't think Dr. Stewart is weird?"

"Dr. Stewart is _very_ weird," Gail affirmed, her tone deadpan and completely serious. "But that's neither here nor there." She regarded Kingsmill meticulously, a steady, unrelenting stare taking in every inch of him, logging every tiny change in posture, every minute shift in expression. Finally, she nodded to herself.

"Look, Bertram–"

"Darren."

"Whatever." Gail canted her head, squaring her shoulders. The movement in her casual stance caused the rookie to straighten unconsciously. "It's not about what you know," she advised. "It's about _using_ what you know and applying it to what you can learn."

"I don't understand."

Gail lofted a long-suffering stare to the heavens. "Please tell me I wasn't _this_ moronic," she muttered. Holly smirked, perking up at the opportunity to put her two cents in when Gail lofted a finger in her direction, not even sparing her a glance. "Nope," she drawled, halting Holly before the first syllable even passed the pathologist's lips. "Nuh-uh. Nothing out of you, Stewart!"

Holly chuckled, returning her attention to the body. Kingsmill frowned at the exchange but didn't comment.

Dropping her head down, Gail squared her shoulders. "Okay, rookie. What did Dr. Stewart say about the victim?"

"Male, six foot-three, two-forty, killed by strangulation." Kingsmill parroted promptly.

"And what does that mean to you?"

The confusion was apparent in his expression as he wracked his mind for an alternate connotation. It was pretty straight-forward stuff, and although it was clear Officer Peck was testing him, there was nothing else he could say. Kingsmill could only shrug helplessly.

"Unacceptable," Gail barked. She glared at him, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Think about it. Use your brain. It's gotta hold more inside of it than a rudimentary knowledge of police protocol and what the Kardashians do on the weekends."

"Uh…" Kingsmill rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about the knowledge he had in front of him. "Well, six-three, two-fifty? That's a pretty big dude."

Gail nodded, rotating her hand. "Continue…"

"I mean…" Kingsmill fidgeted with his duty belt, twirling the cord of his radio around his finger. "To strangle him? That takes a pretty strong person to do that. His attacker would have to be bigger…at the very least stronger."

"Unless?"

Kingsmill's brow furrowed as he worked out the scenario in his mind. "Unless there was something physically hindering him?"

Gail's eyes narrowed. "Are you answering me or asking another question?" she retorted. "If you're going to make the ill-advised decision to open the hole in your face that unfortunately produces noise, don't be tentative."

"Unless something was physically hindering him," Kingsmill rephrased, roughening his voice with conviction.

"Better." Gail encouraged him further. "Like what?"

Kingsmill pondered that for a moment, turning different ideas in his head. "Dr. Stewart said the victim had a fresh scar on his knee that was from a recent surgery," he responded thoughtfully.

"And what would cause something like that?"

"Scars like that are common in injuries like an ACL tear…" Kingsmill began, his mouth fighting to catch up with his mind. "So, the victim could have been an athlete who's rehabbing from reconstructive surgery. A month out, his mobility has to be shot to hell. It's not a big stretch to assume someone smaller or weaker than him could have overpowered him enough to strangle him."

Gail absorbed his words with quiet deliberation. Holly watched her face closely. She saw the almost infinitesimal quirk at the corner of Gail's mouth, barely noticeable to constitute even the ghost of a smile. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished as Gail schooled her features to blasé disinterest. She bobbed her head from side to side. "Adequate."

Kingsmill took the approval for what it was, puffing up at the minute praise. "Is that right?"

Gail shook her head. "It doesn't matter if it's right or not," she countered dismissively. "It's about exploring your options, seeing the alternatives in front of you and being able to offer that out to the theory."

At the rookie's blank look, Gail straightened from her perch on the desk, moving to stand beside him. "Look, once you're out of the academy, everything you've learned is only scratching the surface. The real learning comes on the job…"

Holly smiled as she listened to Gail's tirade, plucking a scalpel from her tray. The blonde officer had taken to pacing while talking, clearly expecting the rookie to listen. With half an ear on Gail and without much prelude, Holly began the Y-incision, slicing into the tissue of the chest. She could see Kingsmill's attention snapping to her work, his face taking on the green tinge of one who had never seen an autopsy before. Yet, like a train wreck, he couldn't look away. As Holly worked on extracting the ribcage, she couldn't help but take a peek at the rookie.

To his credit, he didn't react the way most young officers did, which was to run straight to the nearest receptacle and deposit the contents of his stomach. Instead, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped to the ground, a much less messier result but no less undignified. Holly regarded him with a smirk before turning her focus to her still ranting girlfriend.

"It's okay to feel like nothing you learned during training works when you're on the streets," Gail was pontificating, gesturing emphatically to accentuate her points. "People are crazy and stupid, and they definitely don't react the way you anticipate."

"Gail?"

Her call went unheeded as the blonde continued her diatribe. "It's okay to lean on your TO. They've been there. And it's definitely okay to not know something. I mean, c'mon. No one knows…"

"Gail!"

Gail stopped mid-sentence at the emphatic address. She whirled to her girlfriend, annoyance at being interrupted clear. "What, Hol?"

Holly didn't respond verbally, merely pointing down at the rookie who was spread eagle on the floor of the morgue.

Gail followed her gesture, seeing an unconscious rookie splayed arms and legs akimbo on the tile of the meticulously clean surface. She threw up her hands in exasperation. "But it is definitely _not_ okay to faint over the body!" She turned an accusatory gaze to the pathologist. "What did you do? You broke my rookie!"

Holly grinned, holding up her freshly extracted bones. "Pulled the ribcage."

Gail crossed her arms, eyes appraising Kingsmill's still form. "He's not gonna be concussed or anything when he wakes up, is he?"

Holly shrugged. "Shouldn't be. He didn't fall hard, just kind of slumped over."

Gail prodded the downed rookie with the toe of her boot. "Oliver said I had to give him back exactly as I found him," Gail grumbled. "This isn't how I found him…" She rolled her eyes. "Wimp."

Holly leveled a deadpan stare to her girlfriend. "I distinctly remember a certain someone excusing herself to the bathroom at the first cut of the Y," she drawled.

"Yeah, I thought we agreed never to speak of that again."

"At least he's unconscious and didn't hear that."

"Yes. Little victories…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

For all her irritation and latent detestation for the people currently occupying the world, in hindsight, it really made sense that Gail was drawn to children. The universe at large hadn't corrupted them with their cynicisms and mores; societal pressures and expectations hadn't molded and shaped them into the beings Gail abhorred with thinly veiled impatience. It wasn't quite common knowledge, but the detectives of 15 knew that if there was a child involved in their investigations, Gail was the one who could coax information out the best.

It was one of the more endearing facets of Gail. For as much as she was short-tempered and caustic with anyone over the age of majority, Gail handled children with infinite care and affection. Holly had witnessed Gail's ability with them in a social setting – her eldest brother swore Gail cast a spell on his kids to lull them into placidity – but she only heard stories from Oliver about Gail's particular talent with the "tiny humans". And she certainly wasn't anticipating when she did finally witness that particular aspect of Gail's policing skill.

It started with a rough, vile case, one of the more brutal ones she had covered. Cases involving children were always trying, and initial reports indicated that the victim's daughter had witnessed the crime. Unfortunately, the child was either so traumatized or so distrustful that she wasn't talking to anyone. Even worse, evidence was pointing to the fact that the girl had probably been in the same room at the time of the murder. Forensic results in her hand, Holly gave Luke Callaghan warning before she drove over to 15. Checking in at the lobby, she met Dov as she eclipsed the doors.

"Luke's waiting for you," he informed her, gesturing to the bullpen.

Holly nodded shortly, following the uniformed officer to the small playroom where Luke was watching their child witness. The blonde detective glanced up as Dov escorted Holly into the room, tearing his gaze from the little girl just in eyesight.

"Find anything?"

Holly nodded, handing Luke a folder. "She was definitely there," she affirmed. "CSIs say the sneakers she's wearing have similar characteristics to the footprints found by the body, and the DNA recovered from the hairbrush in her room matches the victim's."

Luke returned the nod, frowning thoughtfully, casting a glance from the folder in his hands to the little girl quietly fiddling with one of the puzzles alone in the room. "So what we need to do is find out if she saw anything. She hasn't talked to any of the officers…" He rubbed the beard adorning his chin and cheeks, scratching absently at his jaw line. He turned to Dov, directing a question to the younger man.

"Is Peck in?"

At the odd and seemingly random request, Dov paused before answering. "Uh, yeah. I think she's in the bullpen."

"Bring her here," Luke commanded the moment Dov's lips formed the affirmative.

Dov's brow furrowed in confusion, and he lingered despite the urgency in Luke's tone. "Why would you–"

"Epstein, I didn't ask for your opinion," Luke cut him off, his eyes squinching shut and one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His tone brokered no argument. "Just find her and tell her I need her."

As Dov disappeared, Luke ran a hand through his hair, eyes weary. "It's always rough with kids," he murmured.

Holly hummed her agreement. She peered into the room. The girl was about six, but she was small for her age. Luscious dark brown curls cascaded down her back and big green eyes flit up every so often to look around the room. Holly sighed, her heart reaching out to the child in the room. "No one that young should ever have to deal with death of this magnitude."

Luke nodded sadly. "I trust Gail to handle this right," he remarked softly. "Say what you want about her, but damn if she has a way with kids."

Holly huffed out a regretful chuckle of agreement. "She does, doesn't she? I just hate for it to be useful in this situation."

"Yeah," Luke murmured. "Me too."

Their attention shifted as Dov ushered Gail into the room. The confusion was clear on the pretty features as a quizzical look dominated Gail's expression. Her eyes flicked between Holly and Callaghan, the question obvious in the ice blue depths. Despite her lack of understanding, Gail still sensed the severity of the situation as both Luke and Holly greeted her with tense nods.

"Peck," Luke grunted.

"Callaghan," Gail returned, also offering a "Dr Stewart," to Holly.

With a hitch of his head, Luke took her aside. He lowered his voice, explaining the situation. Holly watched as Luke pointed into the room, gesturing to the little girl. Gail's face softened as she took in the small, hunched figure just inside of the doorway. A determined look crossed her face, and she nodded her acquiescence strongly.

"Anything you can get would be great," Luke advised her as Gail readied herself.

The blonde acknowledged him with another absent nod before carefully opening the door to the playroom. She approached slowly and deliberately, knowing any sudden movements would probably scare the girl into further silence. Carefully, Gail lowered herself to the playroom floor, her hands folded in her lap. An absent glance was cast over at the new person but Gail wasn't acknowledged otherwise. For her part, Gail simply sat with the girl, letting the child get used to her presence.

Finally, Gail spoke, her voice soft and soothing, a gentle timbre that seemed foreign, even to an ear well-trained in the nuances of Gail's various intonations. "Hello."

Bright green eyes raked over the police officer, surveying Gail closely with a shrewd gaze. Whatever she saw in the blonde woman seemed to satisfy her as she responded with a soft. "Hi."

Gail smiled at the shy greeting. She made sure to look the little girl in the eye. "My name is Gail. What's yours?"

Again, there was a pause, as the inquisitive gaze scanned over Gail, rife with astute wariness. "Kayla," came the answer.

"That's a pretty name," Gail complimented, leaning forward and propping her chin on her hand. She kept her tone and posture casual and unassuming, making sure the girl stayed comfortable with her company.

Kayla smiled, flashing a gap-toothed grin. Her eyes flicked up to the top of Gail's head, and she seemed mesmerized by the platinum strands. "I like your hair."

"Well, thanks." Gail ran her free hand over the pixie cut she had kept since she had originally hacked it off. "I tried to do it myself, but I messed up," she remarked ruefully. "My friend had to help me fix it."

The girl giggled, a delightful sound that coaxed a smile from all the adults watching despite the circumstances. "That's silly! Why did you do that?"

Gail sighed, shoulders rising and falling in a heavy shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"At least you had your friend to help you," the girl offered.

"Yep," Gail nodded. "She's a good friend."

Little by little, Gail got the girl to talk, effortlessly engaging the child in a series of random conversation topics. Soon, she had little Kayla relaxed, and while she wasn't quite smiling, she certainly wasn't in the state of traumatized terror occupied previously.

From outside the room, Dov looked on in awe. He had been on many the receiving end of Gail's caustic and dismissive retorts, had endured the brunt of Gail's trademark short temper. Even when she was dating Chris, she had never revealed the amount of tenderness allotted to this child. It was almost…alien. He turned to Holly, blue eyes wide with awestruck confusion. "Did you know about this?"

Holly's lips curved in an enigmatic smile. She shrugged, her expression softening as she gazed fondly at her girlfriend effortlessly engaging their adolescent witness. "You didn't?"

Dov's brows drew together, and his mouth opened to defend himself. Words failed him as he reconsidered Holly's question. How didn't he know about this? He lived with Gail for a long period. Pondering that notion, he merely returned his attention to Gail.

"Kayla, can I ask you a question?"

The little girl was perceptive, and Gail wasn't fooling her. Her tiny shoulders seemed to slump in resignation, and she nodded slowly.

Gail ducked her head, blue eyes meeting green. "Did you see what happened to your dad?"

Kayla bit her lip, big jade eyes watering with tears. Once again, her head bobbed up and down in a silent affirmative. Gail rushed to comfort her, scooping the girl into her lap, wrapping Kayla up in a hug. "It's okay, sweetie." Gail rubbed her back softly, her heart breaking at the tears soaking her uniform shirt. "I'm gonna have to ask you to be brave for me. Can you do that?"

Kayla sniffled but nodded. Gail looked towards the door, subtly waving Luke in. As he entered, Kayla burrowed even further into Gail's embrace, her fingers clenching against the fabric of Gail's uniform shirt.

"This is my friend Luke," Gail introduced, pointing to the tall man. "I know he looks like a big grizzly bear with his beard he really needs to shave, but I promise he's nice."

Luke dropped down to the floor, smiling encouragingly. "Hi, Kayla."

Her voice was still heavy with tears, but it was strong as she answered. "Hello."

He dipped his head, soft eyes finding hers. "I'm going to need to you tell me everything you remember, sweetheart."

"It's okay," Gail soothed, running a tender hand through brown curls. "He's gonna find out who did this to your daddy."

Kayla nodded, rearranging herself in Gail's lap to face Luke fully. Unconsciously, the tiny hand found Gail's, gripping tightly. Folding her palm strongly around the smaller one, Gail cradled Kayla while she recounted everything, every so often rubbing the little girl's back with her free hand.

From outside the room, Holly resisted the urge to run inside and wrap Gail up in an embrace of her own. Kayla couldn't see Gail's face, but Holly could. As the girl bravely recounted what she remembered, Holly caught every minuscule change of expression from the flicker of pain to the pang of sympathy to the absolute devastation that crossed Gail's face. Outwardly, Gail fought to school her features to impassivity. Inwardly, Holly knew the blonde was hurting just as bad as her young charge.

As she finished, Luke rested a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Kayla."

The girl glanced back to Gail, eyes wide and nervous. "Was that okay?"

"That was perfect," Gail assured her. "You were amazing." She hefted a deep sigh. "I need you to do one more thing for me. Can you do that?"

Kayla's chin quivered, but she nodded resolutely. "Yes."

Gail motioned to Holly, unable to help the smile as the brunette entered. "This is my very best friend Holly. She's the one who helped me fix my hair." Gail winked up at the pathologist. "She's pretty, huh?"

"Very pretty," Kayla answered shyly, entranced by Holly's easy smile.

Gail didn't blame her. "She needs to clean you up a bit so you can help us catch the bad guy, okay?"

Holly eased down beside the two. "Hi, Kayla," she greeted.

"Hi."

Holly patiently explained what she was going to do, laying out her evidence kit. "This won't hurt," she promised, sending a smile also to Gail. "Besides, Officer Gail is right here."

Kayla nodded, obligingly holding out her hands for Holly to swab. As the pathologist promised, everything was painless, and the two women kept the girl entertained as they worked.

When they finished, Gail folded the girl in her arms, stroking the dark hair softly, humming to Kayla as the child burrowed into her chest. "You were so brave," she murmured. "So, so brave."

It took awhile for everything to be sorted, but once Kayla was passed onto her distraught and worried mother and stepfather, Gail pressed a card into the girl's hand, promising that if Kayla ever needed anything to call her. As she passed Dov, her fellow officer regarded her with thinly veiled confusion and opened his mouth, presumably to engage her, but she held up a hand, staving off whatever he was about to say.

"Not now, Epstein."

She gave her report to Luke before quietly slipping away from the conference room. Holly gathered the evidence, tasking Dov to transport it back to the lab before she followed Gail to an interrogation room. Poking her head in the door, she found the officer huddled beneath the table in the viewing room, blonde head resting on the knees drawn up to her chest. With a sympathetic smile, Holly crawled under the table beside Gail. One arm snaking around the hunched back of the officer, Holly dropped her head down to Gail's shoulder. Her free hand slid over Gail's, the pale digits clamped around the opposite wrist hovering over her shins.

Gail wasn't crying, but Holly could feel the pain radiating from her girlfriend's posture. She couldn't see Gail's face, but she could visibly see the tension in Gail's shoulders and back. All Holly could do was offer comfort. At this point, words would be trite and meaningless. She was startled when Gail spoke in a voice heavy with sorrow and tight with repressed emotion.

"When we have kids, I'm locking them in an ivory tower where nothing like this can hurt them," Gail declared strongly, mumbling the avowal into her upraised knees.

The admission stunned Holly for a moment before she hid her smile in the rough fabric of Gail's shirt. She tugged Gail's wrist loose from the vice grip of the opposite hand, replacing the limb with her own digits. The contrast of her olive skin to Gail's porcelain white as their fingers threaded comfortably together prompted another ghost of a smile as Gail's free hand rested atop their point of connection.

"I don't think there are ivory towers in Toronto," she hedged.

"Then you're making a sterilized suit," Gail countered swiftly, her head still ducked into the cradle of her knees.

"So our children can live like Bubble Boy?" Holly commented. She paused, considered that scenario for a long moment. "Why do I have this morbid vision of you bouncing our kids down the stairs for your own amusement?"

A rueful laugh shook Gail's shoulders. "Because I so probably would."

Holly shared in the laugh, turning her face into the crook of Gail's neck. "When we have kids," she began, fingers slipping softly through the short platinum strands atop Gail's head, "and God forbid they witness some unspeakable atrocity, we will do exactly what you did with Kayla today."

A hefty, resigned sigh rumbled through Gail's body as Holly continued to talk.

"We will hold them and comfort them and tell them sometimes people do bad things. And we will say that no matter what bad stuff happens, at least we have each other to remind us of the really, really good stuff."

Gail was silent for a long while before her head popped up from its resting place. "That sounds nice," she conceded. "And then we'll make them forget about all the bad stuff with lots of hugs and kisses? And we won't make them be cops or doctors if they don't want to? Or put stupid Peckspectations on them?"

"Exactly."

Gail absorbed that for a moment before a smirk brightened her features. "We're gonna be badass parents."

Holly laughed, unable to resist the urge to kiss the blonde. "We sure are," she promised.

xxx-xxx-xxx

While Holly had a more comprehensive insight of Gail's personality than most people, even she could admit there were some things about Gail she was still learning.

One particularly befuddling factor was Gail's occupation.

At face value, there was no way Gail should have been a cop. Dubious athleticism aside, there were little nuances of Gail that just didn't seem to fit with what Holly understood about policing and how police officers should conduct themselves.

Make no mistake, Holly knew Gail was a brilliant police officer, but at times, Holly truly wondered about Gail's dedication to the Metropolitan Police Service. She knew Gail's occupation was more out of obligation than actual desire, and there were times Holly questioned if Gail took any pleasure whatsoever from her line of work. She certainly remembered the first time Gail had regaled the concept of Peckspectations to her early in their friendship.

"You know how…" Gail had fumbled to accurately describe the phenomenon attached to persons of her familial association. "How no one questions why there's kickback when you shoot a gun?" She waved her hands as though the movement would convey her analogy clearer. "I mean, I know there's physics or whatever involved, but it's just something that always happens, so you don't really question it. Like no matter what you're shooting, you know there's always gonna be a kickback after you pull the trigger."

Holly wasn't sure she completely understood the analogy, but she caught the gist of what Gail was trying to say. "Yeah?"

"Peckspectations are kind of like that," Gail explained with a shrug. "You're a Peck, you're a cop. Simple as that. You shoot a gun, you get the recoil after."

It was a classic Gail analogy, barely comprehensible but with a strand of logic that simple made sense.

Little did Holly really know, the blue blood that coursed through Gail's veins ran very, very deep. Despite the fact she had very little choice in her given profession, there was a very strong, almost profound passion for her duty that belied her seemingly lackadaisical approach. Holly just wasn't aware how deep until a surprise visit caught them both off guard.

Holly truly cherished the rare nights where she was the pathologist on-call but the phone refused to ring. She appreciated those times where she and Gail could just curl up on the couch and talk about anything and everything with some random – and probably nerdy – television show serving as their background noise. It was nice to just able to escape into their little bubble and let the rest of the world fade into obscurity.

A knock startled their quiet night at the exact same time Gail's phone chimed with a text. Gail fished the device out of her pocket, typing in the passcode to view the message. Whatever it said caused Gail to frown deeply, and her eyes flit from the screen to the door and back again as though she was unsure of what she was reading. Still, she stood and headed to the door, her movements deliberate, clearly conveying an expectation of finding someone familiar on the other side. As she turned the knob, baring their visitor, Gail stiffened, forcing a smile one her face. "Uncle Ricky!"

As Gail stepped back to allow the man entrance, Holly tilted her head curiously, standing from her spot on the couch. "Uncle Ricky" was a tall, handsome man, radiating a dignified air. He clearly enjoyed Gail's discomfort, his weathered face reflecting a hint of a smile as he wrapped the blonde in a hug.

"This is a surprise," Gail stated slowly, her eyes flicking nervously around the living room. "How did you know I was here?"

He smirked, crossing his arms, his posture clearly teasing Gail. "Well, Scout, there's an exclusive database I have access to. Makes it mighty easy to find stuff out." He leaned in, winking cheekily. "Plus, my im-_Peck_-able Gail-dar knows where you are at all times…even if it is hiding out at your girlfriend's place."

Gail's nose wrinkled. "That was bad, Uncle Ricky, and a gross abuse of your power," she retorted, eyes narrowing as she mirrored his gesture, arms crossing tightly over her chest.

He ignored the jibe, hitching his head to their third party looking between them in clear perplexity. "You gonna use the manners I know are buried deep, deep, deep down inside and introduce me?"

Gail huffed her reluctance but obliged, waving a hand to their visitor. "Holly, this is my godfather Richard Collins." Gail winced. "Also known as the chief of Metro."

Holly stiffened, eyes widening in alarm. She found her voice, flashing an unsure smile. "Nice to meet you, sir."

For his part, Rick returned the greeting with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you as well, Dr. Stewart. I've heard wonderful things about you."

In any other circumstance, Holly would have dismissed the words as trite and contrived, but there was a genuine sincerity that brokered no doubt to Chief Collins's authenticity. Holly caught Gail's eye, sending a significant look her direction.

Gail chuckled, catching the unspoken question. "No, there's no relation to Nick," Gail assured her. "Just an extremely unfortunate coincidence." She looked to her godfather. "What are you doing here?"

Rick spread his hands out with a cheeky grin. "Can't a man see his goddaughter every once in awhile?"

Gail shot him a dubious look. "Not when he's got an entire police force to run…"

Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Isn't that the truth? I've got Commissioner Santana breathing down my neck to fix his stepson's screw-up, conveniently ignoring the idiot is a complete pissant who doesn't deserve to be handling a BB gun let alone one with actual bullets. Then I've got to keep John Jarvis on a leash to make sure he doesn't nag one of my best divisions into robotic automatons incapable of independent thought."

Gail cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds like you should have too much on your plate to visit me, wouldn't you say?"

Rick suppressed a smile. "So I'll cut to the chase," he countered. "An interesting letter crossed my desk this morning with a request I don't usually see connected to a Peck name."

If at all possible, Gail's eyes widened in alarm, and she shook her head back and forth in a frantic, rapid manner.

"Ah…" Rick nodded sagely. "Well, I'll make it quick then and let you get a head start on groveling." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and held it out to Gail. "Did I read this correctly?"

Gail nodded shortly. "Yes, sir."

Rick hummed his acknowledgement. He carefully folded the letter, returning it to his breast pocket. "Are you sure you want to do this, Scout?"

"Yes, sir."

Rick leveled a piercing gaze on his goddaughter. She had Elaine's delicate, porcelain features but Bill's steel-eyed gaze. In all the time he had known her, from the moment Bill burst into his office, elatedly shouting the news Elaine was pregnant again, to the moment he had held her in his arms as an infant, she had been an enigma. He watched Gail grow, maturing from a troubled young teenager to a young woman still trying to find herself. He had watched her struggle then triumph in the academy, graduate, and enter the force. From that moment she had been presented with her badge, Rick had no idea how her career would pan out. By contrast, Steve had always seemed groomed to take his place amongst the brass of the force. Rick knew the elder Peck child took pleasure in his work on the field, but Steve had the makings of a politico with his charisma and easy-going smile. Gail, though…Gail was harder to pin down. She had never been one for social graces, had never particularly relished the fact that she was part of a noble legacy.

In a strange way, it all made sense.

If Gail were to continue to operate on the field level, at least it would be in the most elite capacity.

He had never agreed with Elaine's heavy-handed way of parenting, had certainly never agreed with the expectations she placed on her children, expectations that stemmed from a name to which she only had a limited claim. Despite Elaine's best efforts to mold her daughter into the ultimate police officer worthy of her own personal legacy, Rick knew Gail walked to the beat of a different drummer. She thought in a different way, operated in a different way, and certainly wasn't the picture perfect officer Elaine imagined. Where Steve had a very distinct plan for his career, Gail floundered, searching for a place she could fit and simply wanting more than just to satisfy her mother's desires.

"Okay," he stated simply. "I'll back you on this. Your mother will not be able to touch or influence the decision either way. And neither will I."

Gail bristled. "Are you sure about that?" she challenged. "I'm not gonna go through everything, submit my application, and agonize with breathless anticipation just to have Oliver regretfully sit me down and inform me external circumstances have removed me from consideration."

Rick chuckled. "Gail, Elaine Peck's reach is very wide," he conceded. "She did a lot to make her own name mean something, but when she married your father, she gained a sort of pedigree that only comes with the Peck name. It made her all the more ambitious because now she had something very powerful behind her."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Uncle Rick, I don't need an anthological history of my family tree."

Rick merely smiled in response. "All I'm saying is that yes, your mother has a lot of influence…but they didn't give me the fancy office and the shiny title for nothing."

"I just…" Gail ducked her head. "I just want to go somewhere where being a Peck doesn't mean anything."

Rick crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head at his goddaughter. "Gail, if that's the reason you're doing this, it's not a very good reason."

Gail sighed. "I don't want to be a white shirt," she began. Once she started, it seemed as though the dam opened up and everything spilled forth in a rambling, barely coherent rush of words and gestures. Idly, Gail wondered if this was what Holly felt like. "I don't want to sit behind a desk, telling people where to go then having to clean up their mistakes when it goes sideways; the only actions I want to be accountable for are my own. I also don't want to be a detective, figuring out what happened after the fact. I want to stop it before it happens."

Rick absorbed that with a grave look on his face. He didn't bat an eyelash when his stare found his goddaughter's. "Gail, I'm not going to lie to you. Getting into that program is hard. But if you put the work in, if you commit yourself to pouring every ounce of passion into this, I know you can do it."

Gail nodded shortly. "Thanks, Uncle Ricky."

"Good luck, kiddo." Rick flashed a grin. "I'm going to enjoy the fallout." His face took on a mischievous light. "Just the thought of the snit fit your mother is sure to throw when she catches wind of this." Rick could only let his grin widen cheekily. He inclined his head to Holly. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Dr. Stewart."

Holly returned the nod. "You too, Chief Collins."

"It's just Rick, my dear," he assured her. "Anyone who makes Gail actually smile has no need for formalities."

"Only if you call me Holly."

Rick threw out a thumbs up as he backed through the door. "Done deal."

Gail shook her head, nearly shoving her godfather out of the door. "Alright, alright. Go on already!" As she closed the door behind him, leaning up against it, Gail reluctantly met Holly's patiently inquisitive gaze.

"We need to talk about something."

Holly drew in a deep breath. From her quiet observation of Gail and Rick's conversation, she drew a few conclusions. Whatever Gail had gotten herself into was certainly serious if the chief of police was addressing it both professionally and personally. She couldn't help but feel the trepidation creep into her subconscious mind as it whirled with the possibilities. Dating Gail unfortunately had conditioned her to expect the worst and hope for the best when it came to business concerning the Metro Police Service. And the way Gail was looking at her with barely disguised foreboding certainly didn't help matters.

Resigned to her fate, Holly braced herself and nodded as she descended down to the couch. The gesture was deliberate, her eyes never leaving Gail's. "I gathered."

Gail approached slowly, embodying the skittish kitten she often analogized herself to be. Gracefully, she eased herself down beside her girlfriend. Pale hands twisted in her lap as Gail bit her lip, clearly unsure of how to begin what she anticipated to be a difficult talk.

"That was my godfather," Gail began, reiterating a new piece of knowledge Holly had just become privy to.

Holly nodded, hoping her encouragement would prompt Gail to cut to the chase. "Yes."

"He's also the Chief of Police," Gail continued.

Outwardly, Holly was the epitome of calm and collected, personifying the patient, supportive significant other…

…Inside, she idly wondered if strangling Gail would force the words out.

Ultimately, she decided such an action would be counterproductive.

Thankfully, Gail saved her from making that decision by speaking again. "I think I know what I want to do within the force."

Holly's patience dangled on a very thin, rapidly fraying string. She forced herself to keep her expression neutral and nodded. "Okay?"

"The thing is…" Gail hesitated. "I don't think you're going to particularly like it."

Holly's eyes narrowed. "Honey, you're a police officer," she deadpanned. "I don't particularly like many parts of your job."

Gail drew in a deep breath, blurting out the crux of the entire conversation. "I want to apply to ETF."

There was a beat as Holly absorbed that sentence. The letters resonated in her mind, immediately making a connection to the one agency that used that acronym.

"ETF," Holly echoed. "As in the Emergency Task Force. As in our version of SWAT?!" Her voice got progressively louder as the panic crept into her awareness.

ETF handled the situations that escalated beyond the duties of the Metropolitan Police Service. They handled hostage situations, diffused bombs, and talked down hostile aggressors. Gail would be on the front lines of a group that charged headlong into the most dangerous of circumstances.

Gail winced at Holly's reaction. "Yeah." She ran a hand through her hair. "There's a position that just opened up and…I think I can do it." She nodded resolutely, reconsidering her words. "I _know_ I can do it."

So many responses flashed through Holly's mind, all battling for verbal recognition. The most prevalent thought burst forth in a simple question, "Why ETF?"

Gail pondered that for a moment. "It's complicated," she admitted. "No Peck has ever done ETF. But it's also a challenge. It's tough, it's unrelenting; there are no excuses, and…" She shrugged. "I think I really want to push myself."

"And you're okay with the dangers associated with that?" Holly ventured. "Gail, ETF is…I mean, it's really…" She didn't even know what she wanted to say. Her hands gestured rapidly, thrusting forward as though the motion would force the words out. Finally, she just settled with, "ETF…"

Gail swallowed hard. She didn't like the look of distress on Holly's face, but this was something she wanted, truly wanted. At the same time, she needed Holly's support. "Like I told Uncle Rick," she explained. "I want to stop things before they happen, not resolve them after the fact."

Holly sighed, tilting her head, her eyes softening as she gazed upon her girlfriend. "Gail…" She gathered her thoughts. "You being a police officer exists as the single most aggravating stressor in my life," she stated matter-of-factly.

Gail ducked her head, cringing at the rather blatant and straight-forward truth. Holly didn't allow the blonde to hide her face, bringing her eyes down to Gail's.

"But I also understand what you're telling me even if I don't necessarily like it."

"Holly," Gail paused to collect herself, her tongue peeking out to run along her bottom lip. She sighed in acquiescence. Her eyes fluttered closed and her body tipped forward. Her forehead leaned against Holly's, the two women sharing breaths. Holly returned the sigh, her hands reaching up to cup Gail's neck. Pale hands covered her own.

"I need you with me," Gail whispered. It looked as though it physically pained the blonde to bare her vulnerability in that manner. Gail's eyes lofted to meet the dark brown gaze in front of her. The ice blue eyes projected such a fierce, stagnant determination combined with the underlying lilt of an earnest plea that Holly could feel the compulsion to acquiesce snatch her heart up in a vice grip.

"Please," Gail murmured, the syllables ragged and broken with the hoarse timbre of Gail's voice as she fought to throw every ounce of persuasion into the simple word. "_Please_, Hol," she repeated. "I can't do this if you're not on board."

Holly didn't answer for the longest moment. The only sound was the uneven breaths that rattled around in the minute space between them. She tilted her face, lips finding Gail's softly, a whisper of a kiss. Holly let her mouth wander, brushing the slope of a cheekbone, the jut of a jawline, the curve of a chin. Finally, she returned to Gail's lips again. She drank in the sweet taste of her girlfriend, relishing in the affection poured between them.

It was a sobering thought, Holly realized with grave clarity, to serve as the catalyst that decided the direction of an entire career. As much as every bone, every nerve, every atom of her body screamed to respond in the contrary, as much as every protective instinct that resided in the chromosomes of her very DNA wished to shackle the police officer behind a desk for the rest of her life, she couldn't deny Gail this opportunity, even as her head and heart warred with one another.

She nodded once.

"I'm with you."

xxx-xxx-xxx

She got it.

Holly knew she would.

For all her blustering and posturing, for the carefully feigned air of disinterest she projected on a daily basis, when Gail wanted something – _truly_ wanted something – she was a bulldog, relentless and unyielding. She studied day and night for her proficiency tests, spent hours at the shooting range perfecting her aptitude with the different weaponry ETF utilized, and took the different courses available to prep for the rigors of duty. Every week, she met with a former ETF officer to coach and improve her technique.

And it was in those few months that Holly got a sense just how Gail's friends scratched the surface of her personality. As Gail immersed herself in preparing for the application process for ETF, her fellow officers were oblivious. They went about their business, continued on their routines as officers of 15 Division, not noticing as Gail's studying and training made her less and less available.

The only ones who knew anything about Gail's ambitious venture were Traci – and by default Steve – and Oliver. After Gail had declined the third straight invitation to after-shift drinks at the Penny, the detective had cornered her friend at 15, demanding an explanation. Their fellow officers had brushed Traci's concern off as Gail simply being her antisocial self. Much to Gail's everlasting chagrin, Traci had wormed the truth out of her with startling efficiency. The detective had blinked in surprise, certainly not expecting ETF to be the cause of Gail's absence, but she had grinned, nodding her approval.

"Huh. I wonder why I never thought of that for you," were her exact words upon the revelation.

Gail wrinkled her nose. "I'm offended you question my awesomeness," she drawled.

Traci shook her head. "Gail, what would be more awesome is if you made it through," she answered. "And I'm going to help you."

Gail's face shifted to a dubious frown. "Which means what, exactly?"

Traci smirked in a devious way that had been absent before she became friends with Gail. "You do know there's a physical fitness aspect of the application right?"

The revelation hit Gail like a sledgehammer, and her eyes widened, her head shaking rapidly. "Traci…"

"Oh yeah, Peck. We've gotta get your ass in shape."

Steve's reaction had been different but no less supportive. He had corralled Gail and Holly when they escaped to The Fox Den, a low-key bar closer to Holly's home. Part of the appeal was the fact no one from 15 ever ventured to Holly's neighborhood. Therefore, Gail was stunned into silence when Steve sauntered through the entrance and headed straight to them. He leaned up against the counter, surveying his sister as she mimicked a deer caught in the headlights of a very large semi-truck. Steve had a look on his face that immediately put her on guard.

"Steve."

Steve smirked. "Gail."

He signaled for a drink, reveling in Gail's discomfort, but didn't speak, fingertips drumming on the countertop. Finally, he turned to his sister. "You do realize it's not gonna be good for my reputation if my little sister is more badass than I am, right?"

Gail scoffed, throwing back the last dredges of her whisky and Coke, lofting her hand for a refill. "Please, Steven. My mere existence ensures you will never be as badass as I am."

Steve chuckled, clinking his glass against Gail's. "To you then," he drawled. "Because I can't wait for you to get this and watch Mom completely blow her top."

By contrast, Gail had sought Oliver's advice and guidance. Her staff sergeant hadn't batted an eyelash and immediately began rambling, his face lighting up with genuine glee.

"Alright, Alien," he enthused. "If you're gonna do this, you're gonna do it right." He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, scribbling a name and phone number on it before slapping it in front of her. "You are going to get in touch with this man after shift – I'll give him a heads up to expect your call, and you will listen to and absorb everything he says."

She plucked the paper from Oliver's desk, eyeing it dubiously. "Staff Sergeant Glen Pasternak," she read. "And who is Staff Sergeant Pasternak?"

"ETF veteran," Oliver answered. "Hell of an officer. He's a desk jockey up at 34 now, but he's one of the best ETF ever had." He leveled a serious look at Gail. "You want to get this, you go to him. He'll teach you right."

Gail nodded, carefully folding the paper and sliding it into her breast pocket. "Thanks, Oliver." As she stood to leave, Oliver called her back.

"Gail." He regarded her for a moment. "You're not the only one from 15 after this spot," he informed her. "But you are only one who's come to me for help. That says a lot."

It was a ringing endorsement, and one that bolstered Gail's confidence to no end. On one hand, Holly was ecstatic the most important people in Gail's life supported her decision. On the other hand, she begrudged the resources they all had at their disposal. Between Traci's insistence in physically training Gail, Steve's resolve in pounding code and protocol and everything else she would need to know, and Oliver's referral of Staff Sergeant Pasternak, Gail certainly had a regimen designed for success. Holly may have seen very little of her girlfriend during those three months, but she certainly didn't begrudge Gail in the slightest. For the first time in her career as an officer, Gail had a vision and she was motivated to make it happen.

When Gail received her notification, she was ecstatic, and Holly was the first person she told. Steve and Traci followed, and the four of them, along with Oliver, and Celery celebrated the accomplishment at The Fox Den. The rest of 15 remained ignorant to the changes imminent, and it was completely by accident that she had been at 15 the day Oliver made the announcement to the rest of the staff. She had just finished a consult with one of the homicide detectives when Oliver had caught her.

"Holly!"

Reflexively, Holly grinned, very much fond of the jovial Staff Sergeant towards whom Gail held infinite affection. "Hey, Oliver."

The white shirted senior officer slung a friendly arm around her and redirected her path. "You, my dear Dr. Stewart, are cordially invited to the spectacle I am about to conduct in which the collective minds of 15 Division are about to explode."

Holly shot Oliver a wry smile. "Otherwise known as the announcement Gail made ETF?" she correctly surmised.

"Can't get anything past you, can I, Doc?"

Parade was one phenomenon Holly had never been privy to, and she had to admit it was intimidating with the mass of dark blue shirts lining the tables, mingling with the plainclothes set along the walls. She quickly found Traci, squeezing herself between the woman and Steve, who greeted her with a teasing pinch to the side. She may or may not have tread on his foot in retaliation.

Oliver stood tall behind a podium at the head of the room, resplendent in his white shirt. He called everyone's attention to him, raising his voice to be heard above the chatter. He ran through the day's agenda, highlighting their main tasks for the day and relaying notes from the brass. Before dismissing his officers, Oliver grabbed one more sheet of paper from his notes.

"Alright, before you all get out there, I've got one final announcement to make." He waited as every eye swung his way. "We're gonna be saying goodbye to one of our own soon. As you all know, a spot opened up in ETF. Many of you applied for it, went through the quals, and I'm thankful for your dedication." He let that sink in for a bit before shooting out a smile. "On that note, I'm very happy to announce that one of our very own 15 Division officers has been accepted."

The whispers started, speculating on the officer chosen. Some tabbed McNally, others bet Collins. For her part, Gail merely sat quietly, her gaze fixated on her lap, expression schooled to careful disinterest.

"Gail Peck!" Oliver beamed like a pleased papa, sweeping an arm in her direction. "We're proud of you, kid." He led the short round of applause before dismissing his officers. "Alright, 15. Let's keep the streets and each other safe."

The room broke to their various assignments, and Holly joined Traci in congratulating Gail. As Steve caught his sister around the neck, ruffling her hair, neither woman missed the looks exchanged by the other members of Gail's rookie class. As the rest of the room emptied, Gail hovered with Traci, Steve, and Holly, fielding congratulations from her fellow officers. She was in no hurry to leave, unfortunately stuck at booking with Nick.

On his way out, Nick approached her with a genuine smile, passing on his congratulations before heading out to the front desk, telling her to take her time. Chloe squeezed Dov's arm before she headed out with another officer to the squad bay. With the room soon vacant save for a few of the detectives, Andy, Chris, and Dov glanced amongst each other before looking toward Oliver, still at the podium and choking down one of Celery's concoctions with a brave face and a slight shudder.

They approached their Staff Sergeant and an unvoiced conversation passed between the three officers before Chris ventured the question hanging in the air. "Oliver, is this for real?"

Oliver swallowed down another sip, clamping the lid shut and setting aside the bottle. "Is what for real?" he asked, shuffling the papers on the dais and attaching them together with a binder clip. Oliver folded down the handles before he glanced up at the gathered officers.

"Gail," Andy clarified. "Did she really get ETF?"

Oliver paused and cocked his head in confusion. He straightened, leveling a significant look to each of them in turn before settling on Andy. "Well, I will tell you this, McNally, I don't often make announcements like that for my own amusement and certainly not to the entire squad in a very public manner."

"It's just…" Chris began to defend the query before he trailed off, looking to the others for assistance.

"We had no idea Gail was even applying," Dov finished. He glanced over his shoulder, directing his gaze to Gail as Traci leaned in, unable to resist giving the blonde another hug of congratulations. Turning back, he shook his head. "We all went through the process and were talking about it all the time, but Gail never said anything to us."

"Huh." Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, nodding slowly as a revelation hit him. "Peck participated in over eleven weeks of preparation training courses," he commented. "That's almost three months. Are you three saying that you didn't notice she was conspicuously absent during those eleven-plus weeks?"

Chris scratched the back of his neck, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "We just figured she was being Gail."

Oliver dropped his head, shaking it with a laugh. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me how blind you all are to Peck."

"C'mon, Oliver," Andy ventured. "You've seen her on patrol, you know how she can be."

"I _do_ know how she can be," Oliver countered. "And I tell you what I've seen. I've seen her do many remarkable things."

"She's just never seemed…_interested_," Andy defended.

"You really think it's because she's disinterested?" Oliver challenged. "Or perhaps because she just wasn't motivated?"

Clearly that hadn't crossed the minds of the officers in front of him as no one had a response.

"All this stuff," Oliver waved a hand, encompassing 15's bullpen, "the stuff she's been around since she was a kid…the routines, the paperwork, the patrol routes. You don't think she's already had that drilled in her head since she was able to recognize blue and red?"

It was clear they had absolutely no idea what Oliver was talking about. Aside from Traci, Holly wasn't sure Gail had ever truly explained the "Peckspectations" burdened to her. There was an innate pressure that stemmed from the depth of the Peck family legacy dating all the way back to Gail's great-grandfather. Gail knew code and protocol inside and out, upside down. She could fill out forms in her sleep, knew exactly what channels to take for every situation imaginable. Elaine Peck had drilled the fundamentals of policing into her children from a young age, and Gail had been groomed to continue the legacy. However, despite even the most stringent of preparations at ones disposal, everyone knew that circumstances sometimes allowed execution to go awry.

Oliver regarded them dubiously, unsure if they were all just playing dumb or had really been that badly uninformed to Gail. He quickly and accurately surmised the latter. "Alright, let me tell you a little something about Gail Peck," Oliver began. "She may not remember this, but I recall it like it was yesterday." He crossed his arms. "I was a rookie, barely out of the academy with a hell of a lot more hair than I have now. A senior officer comes stomping up to my desk, towing a girl behind him. Without much fanfare, he plops this petulant, surly teenager in the chair beside me and tells me to watch her, grumbling she's the Superintendent's daughter."

Dov spoke up in protest. "Oliver, I don't think we–"

Oliver's stern voice cut him off quite succinctly. "Officer Epstein, as your Staff Sergeant and unit commander, I order you to shut your trap and listen to me or so help me, you'll be chained to a desk for the next month." Seeing that he very well had all three rookies' undivided attention, Oliver continued. "She hadn't done anything crazy, just a little vandalism. It was something petty, only a mural in an alleyway wall. Nothing violent."

A little ways away, Gail had caught wind of Oliver's story and was flicking her eyes over to the little gathering. She had half an ear on her brother, half an ear on Oliver as she watched her Staff Sergeant impart a bit of knowledge on her fellow officers.

"So she just sits there, a little petulant ball of teenaged angst and misdirected rebellion, all crossed arms and scowling." Oliver's face took on a fond lilt. "She even snapped at me, 'What are you staring at, Donut Shop?'" He chuckled to himself at the memory. "Anyway, the officer comes back and tells me to let her go. That Superintendant Peck is taking care of things."

Dov was the first to scoff, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. The story had ended the way they all expected it to, with the Peck pull erasing a possibly damaging lapse in judgment.

Before they could comment, Oliver's sharp glare goaded them into silence. It was a different look from their normally jovial Staff Sergeant but one that reminded them Oliver could be a frightening force if he wanted to. "Do you know what that girl said?"

Headshakes answered him.

"She said, 'Just once, I wish I actually got in trouble instead of having my mom make it disappear.'"

Oliver let that sink in for a long moment. As their Staff Sergeant, he certainly had a grasp on what went on around his division, and he knew these rookies just was well as anyone. He wasn't blind to the perception the common officer had concerning Gail; he just believed her friends would have one that was a bit more informed.

At that point, Gail and company dropped all pretenses they weren't listening to the conversation. Holly glanced over to her girlfriend. Gail was staring over at Oliver, her mouth open in surprise. There was an unreadable expression on her face, torn between multitudes of different emotions.

"I remember that," Steve murmured earnestly. "Man, Mom was pissed she had to clean that up. Gail was grounded for _forever_."

Traci shushed him with a pinch, entranced by the showdown. With every word that left Oliver's lips, the three rookies seemed to shrink into themselves, flickers of shame crossing each face as the weight of Oliver's message fell strongly onto their shoulders.

"What you knuckleheads," Oliver pointed to each of in turn, "often fail to notice – a sad fact considering how observant you're all supposed to be as not only Gail's closest friends but also _police officers_ – is that Gail wants to be treated just like every other officer; no leeway, no gifts. She very much dislikes and resents the 'Peckspectations' that have been placed on her. And do you know why?"

Again, headshakes in the negative answered his query.

"Because something like this," Oliver gestured again to the group of officers around him questioning Gail's appointment, "happens every time she accomplishes something worthy of praise. Everyone has an opinion on whether or not she used her name to get the job, on whether or not she truly deserved it, whether or not it's just a publicity ploy to further the Peck name. All Gail has ever wanted is to earn her due on her own merit. And let me tell you something else."

It was sobering to see Oliver truly serious. The intensity shining in normally good-humored eyes was something never witnessed amongst the three officers. Only Andy had seen something similar in the raging inferno that had engulfed their mild-mannered senior officer as he stood over the drug dealer who had been feeding drugs to his teenaged daughter.

"She more than earned this on her own merit. Her scores were some of the highest ever seen from an applicant and certainly the highest ever attained by a 15 Division officer. She put the time and effort to ensure that she would be a top candidate and that was with her own mother attempting to blockade her at every turn."

It was a revelation that stunned the three officers to silence, but Oliver wasn't content in just that implication.

"So perhaps as her _friends_," once again, Oliver leveled a pointed look to the officers he had trained, "you should be congratulating her instead of questioning whether or not she deserves this. Because I will tell you right now…" Oliver's stare hardened. "She definitely does. Gail deserves good things just as much as any of you do. Gail deserves to be _happy_. Do not take this away from her."

Oliver nodded once, satisfied her had communicated the right message, but not before he let one more point drive home. "I know you all have your own opinions on how Gail expresses her feelings, but don't ever make the mistake of being careless with what you say just because you think it doesn't affect her. Gail feels just as much as any of you do. _Words_ hurt her just as much as they do you." He palmed the podium.

"Now, officers," he drawled, a finality in his tone. "I believe the streets of the city will not protect themselves."

As Oliver definitively dismissed them, his words resonated in the three former rookies. Chris flashed back to a conversation he had with Gail, where the blonde worried she was a sociopath. He remembered the soft and sincere "Thank you," she murmured when he assured her that the hard shell protecting her was just part of who she was.

Andy let a pang of guilt rattle within the recesses of her heart. She recalled Gail's face crumbling as the blonde fought back the hurt and pain rushing to the surface as Andy asked if she and Nick had Gail's blessing. At one time or another, they had all accused Gail of being an ice queen or emotionless. In that one moment, Andy saw that Gail was very much capable of being hurt, and it tore her apart knowing that she was the cause of Gail's pain.

For his part, Dov remembered the pain Gail inflicted on him as she lashed out, a balled fist connecting strongly with his shoulder. He remembered the tears lacing her voice as Gail fought to keep them from welling to the surface as she berated his stupidity. He remembered the softness in her voice as she told him the only person who saw him as the 'rookie screwup' was himself.

Much like before, the three rookies exchanged glances, but this time, those glances were rampant with abject shame. They approached Gail, conveying sincere congratulations that Gail fielded with surprising grace. Holly watched Gail's expression. She could see the blonde battle with her baser instincts towards dripping sarcasm and dismissive contempt.

But, Gail tamped impulse down. Instead, she smiled amiably and genuinely.

Holly considered that progress.

As Steve and Traci departed, heading out to their respective cases, Gail held out a hand, halting Holly before the pathologist also left. A quick conversation passed wordlessly between the two women, and Holly lingered as Gail approached Oliver. As she stopped in front of him, he straightened, a bright smile on his face. "Alien."

Gail didn't speak for a long moment. She surveyed Oliver with impassive blue eyes. "I didn't know you remembered that."

Oliver huffed out a chuckle. "I fondly reminisce about the times I had a full head of hair," he remarked, running a remorseful hand over the ever-growing bald spot. He sobered, eyes soft with fatherly affection for his admittedly favorite rookie. "Gail, you're one of a kind. I couldn't forget you if I tried."

That coaxed a rare, genuine smile from the blonde. "Thank you," she responded. "For what you said."

Oliver acknowledged the sentiment with a short jerk of his head. He cupped the back of her neck, pressing an affectionate kiss to her forehead. "Gail…" his eyes met her earnestly. "You're not an ice queen, you're not cold. You bleed, you feel, you hurt. No one should ever dismiss that."

Gail's lips pursed as she fought the emotion from fully bursting forth. Her eyes flicked down to the ground in the slightest of insecure gestures. "Can I really do this, Oliver?"

"You're gonna be great," he assured her without hesitation. "After all, I had a hand in training you."

Gail shrugged, pale blue spheres radiating insecure vulnerability. "I feel like I still have so much to learn," she confessed. "I'm happy I got this, but…I'm terrified I'm going to screw it up."

"You won't," he promised. "You won't let yourself." He ducked his head, finding her gaze. "You poured everything into this, kiddo," he reminded her. "And you got it because it was something you really, really wanted. You're not gonna let yourself fail for that same fact." He straightened, eyes shining with pride. "And the next time I'm going to see you, you'll be in those grays, and you're going to wonder how you ever doubted ETF wasn't for you."

Bolstered by his words, Gail let out a rueful chuckle. "God, I'm going to miss you, Oliver."

"Nah," he dismissed the connotation with a wave. "You're stuck with me, Peck. Celery's kind of fond of your girl, and I am not about to make my lady unhappy by barring her from her favorite pathologist." A corner of his mouth ascended upward. "And I'm gonna miss my Petulant Peck too. One of these days, we will actually make that shopping trip for shoes."

"And weapons?"

"And weapons too."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Gail settled into her role as an officer of ETF, Holly couldn't help but note the changes that occurred in the routine of their lives. Gail still found time for her former 15 Division colleagues, but her social interactions expanded to include the members of her ETF team. It was a different sort of dynamic than in 15. Gail worked exclusively within a team of ten total officers, and they had developed a bond similar yet starkly different than the one Gail fostered with 15 Division and her rookie class.

Gail was also elatedly happy with her work. She was a perfect fit for ETF, and the challenge of the elite unit was something that Gail relished to no end. Despite the grueling work and the notion that each situation was of a threat level beyond the capabilities of the Metropolitan Police Service's common force, Gail was very, very content. And although Holly's terror was now increased twenty-fold, she could hardly deter Gail's ambition.

Still, Gail was fiercely loyal to the division that molded her as a police officer. Holly had no idea exactly how much affection Gail had for 15 until Gail's ETF team had been called in to assist with a hostage situation. Holly had been working in conjunction with Gail's former unit, her findings responsible for pinpointing their suspect who had barricaded himself in an abandoned building with five hostages. Oliver had asked she be present in case ETF needed her expertise. As the rest of the 15 officers entered the conference room, Gail and her ETF team were already there, huddled around what could only be construed as blueprints to the building pinned up on a large whiteboard.

Their gray uniforms were an interesting contrast to the dark blue of 15. All the faces of the team were familiar to Holly; she had met each and every one of them, imparting a latent threat that she knew how to successfully dispose of a body should anything happen to Gail on their watch. Similarly, she had met all of the team's relevant significant others, the men and woman who bore the misfortune of loving a member of ETF providing a support system for the rough assignments that frequently thrust the team into dangerous situations.

The team's commanding officer, Sergeant Jefferson McCabe, was turned to the whiteboard, pointing out a spot to their primary sniper, Micah Bailey. A tall, wiry man with a deep, soothing voice perfect for his role as their main crisis negotiator, Sergeant McCabe was the grizzled veteran amongst his younger pups. Micah Bailey was a familiar face to 15, the brother of ETF team leader Sergeant Bailey who had worked often with the division and had helped save Oliver during Kevin Ford's rampage.

Holly shook her head as she noticed Gail and Bennett St. John locked in a heated rock-paper-scissors battle while the rest of the team looked on, presumably to decide who was going to carry the carbine – labeled the "Fun Gun" by Benny – but Holly knew from experience they had regressed to the same juvenile tactics of decision in lesser instances. She smiled when Gail won with a stealthily thrown paper and fist-pumped, whirling to receive the high-five that Sergeant McCabe offered without taking his eyes off the whiteboard.

There was a lightness to Gail, a sense of ease and satisfaction that had been absent in her time at 15. She looked like a woman wholly content with her lot in life, and Holly knew ETF was responsible for a good part of that change. She was smiling freely, laughing and joking with her team and displaying a frivolity that had been stifled in the past.

As Oliver called the room to attention, laying out the situation and their plan for resolution, Gail and her team stood silently to the side until Oliver acknowledged their presence.

"As you can see, we will be working with ETF on this one," he announced. "They will be taking point, we will be on this as support; you are under their orders. Sergeant McCabe will be in command."

As Oliver allowed Sergeant McCabe the floor, and he stepped forward. His eyes swept over the room. "Officers," he greeted them. "When I told my team that we would be working with this division, a horrible sound that I have never heard before escaped from Officer Peck." He paused before a wry smile curled his lips. "It was a squeal."

He let the raucous laughter die down before he spoke again, glancing over to his officer, pleased to see the tinge of red decorating her cheeks. "She then proceeded to gush about this division and the caliber of officers we had at our disposal. And knowing Officer Peck, I am aware that she does not give those compliments willingly." He sobered, his chin lifting in deference of the gravity of his next message. "This is a very delicate situation, and we will need your support on this one, but this is not a situation where discretion is advised. You are all police officers, and we trust your instincts to conduct yourselves as such, but right now, with the stakes this high, there is no room for error." Sergeant McCabe let that sink in for a moment. "I had planned to rally you all and provide a little encouragement, but I think someone else's words would have better impact than mine."

Everyone was surprised when he rotated, motioning someone forward with a hitch of his head, and Gail stepped to the front to address 15. She stood tall and authoritative, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes peeking out from a cap with the ETF seal on the face. A small smile touched the corners of her mouth as her gaze swept over her former colleagues with blatantly fond affection.

"Hello, everyone," she began. "It's certainly nice to see familiar faces despite the circumstances." Her smile widened slightly before she adopted a more serious air. "Like I told Sergeant McCabe," she commented, gesturing to her team leader. "15 Division has some of the best officers the Metropolitan Police Service can offer, but also some of the most impulsive and badge heavy." She grinned as the laughter rang out in agreement with the statement. "This is not an instance where we need those gut instincts to rule you," she leveled a significant look to Andy and Sam Swarek, softening the jibe with a wink.

"But you know that and I know that, and I know everything would be alright because I am well aware what you're all capable of. I know that 15 made me into the officer I am. I am proud that I was once among your ranks, and I'm equally as proud to be serving alongside all of you." The strength in Gail's voice gave everyone pause, and murmurs of acknowledgement passed through the room. Gail's presence was undeniable, and she had every officer hanging onto her words with a power that would have put even the formidable Elaine Peck to shame. Again her eyes swept the room, encompassing its entirety and every individual officer at the same time.

McCabe stood beside Gail, his deep voice resonating strongly. "Our goal is to come out of this without shots fired, but I guarantee that won't happen if someone decides to play the hero. This is an instance where we need you to take every word out of an ETF officer as law. Do that, and we can all come out of this satisfied with the resolution."

There was an immediate shift in energy amongst the room, the officers heartened by Gail's words of encouragement. Holly took in the faces, the faces that once doubted or were ignorant of the depth of Gail's loyalty. Those same faces reflected a different air as they nodded their approval of Gail's words. It was one of respect, finally solidified in the loyalty Gail still had for her first division.

Oliver nodded, stepping forward again. "Alright, 15," he announced. "You know your assignments. Let's move out, and everyone comes back alive."

The officers filed out, heading to the squad bay to make their way to their target point. The ETF team was last to leave, and as they passed Holly, each member acknowledged her with a nod. Gail brought up the rear. Holly should have known the mischievous look on Gail's face indicated something; Gail was always puckish prior to a mission. It was her way of settling into that state of stoic Zen state of being before the chaos of whatever situation ETF was about to find themselves in. Sure enough, Holly squeaked as a stealthy hand snuck around her hip and pinched her behind. She didn't have to look to know Steve had caught their interaction; his bark of laughter was enough.

As she watched them go, she felt the worry creep in, but that was an obligatory response, almost Pavlovian in its impulse. It would last for as long as the situation warranted.

And as a group of ETF officers gathered with a choice group of 15 officers later at the Black Penny, Holly couldn't help but smile. Her worry evaporated the moment Gail led the entire entourage into the Penny where Holly waited at a table, nursing a beer. That worry dissipated in favor of warmth as she snuggled beneath the arm of a tired but triumphant blonde 15 Division-turned-ETF officer who plopped down beside her and promptly stole her beer, downing the glass with three big gulps before offering a kiss as her apology and signaling for another. As the rest of the motley crew followed, settling into the empty seats with their own drinks, Holly felt a sense of contentment wash over her as the conversations fluctuated from their operation to more frivolous topics. These were the people that knew Gail best. And although sometimes the understated degrees of the admittedly complex blonde escaped them, these were the people that believed in the inherent goodness of Gail's character.

And they knew, like anything truly worthwhile, that to get to the core of Gail Peck, one had to be patient.

Because it was there.

And it was beautiful.

* * *

_The subtle nuances of Gail Peck are just that._

_Subtle._

_To the untrained eye, Gail is a simplistic sort of person. What those people miss is the layers. The subtleties that carefully craft Gail Peck are easily disregarded once people latch onto their initial perceptions established through preliminary experiences. It's also easy to underestimate Gail's depth. To assume that the surface layer of her personality that radiates a demeanor meticulously distant and emotionally detached is as far as it gets with her._

_It's all subterfuge._

_It's all deflection._

_It's her subconscious way of protecting herself, of systematically eliminating the subjects too superficial to be bothered until only the most tenacious remain. And the ones that stick around long enough to peel back the layers are able to reveal the best parts of Gail:_

_Her courage._

_Her loyalty._

_Her compassion._

_Gail's not an easy person. No one can refute that. But to take her at face value and ignore the possibilities beneath? To dismiss her nonchalance as disinterest or a lack of caring?_

_Well, that is the biggest mistake of all._

* * *

_And there we go! As usual, I hope you guys enjoyed that! CJ and I are always amazed to see how great of a response we get from the fandom. Thanks so much to everyone who shows the story love, and we hope to hear from you guys. As always, you can hit us up here, on Tumblr, or Twitter. Our handles are both the same on both (inkstainedpinky and CJersey82)._

_ The next chapter is going to stray a little more to the promised 'M' rating. We'll be exploring Gail's passionate side – and we all know it's a little more heightened with Holly._

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


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